Seven Forty-Three
by CullensTwiMistress
Summary: Maps dictate where we go, but they don't always take us home. City subway tunnels and dim street lights converge, bringing two people infinitely closer. Will a chance meeting lead them to forever? Maybe it was only a matter of time. Collaboration with Maplestyle. Romance; BxE; Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Seven Forty-Three**

Maps dictate where we go, but they don't always take us home. City subway tunnels and dim street lights converge, bringing two people infinitely closer. Will a chance meeting lead them to forever? Maybe it was only a matter of time. Collaboration with Maplestyle. Romance; BxE; Rated M.

…

**Authors' notes...**

First off, we had a grand ole time writing this, and I hope you'll all enjoy reading. :)

This story is all pre-written and will post on Tuesdays and Fridays.

Spelling and grammar are Canadian in this story, as it is set in Canada. French will be spoken by numerous characters, but no worries, translation will immediately follow in brackets.

We owe huge tackle-hugs to Midnight Cougar for waving her magic beta wand over this. It wouldn't be what it is without her.

Also, boobie gropes to Kni Nut for pre-reading and telling us we weren't crazy.

Lastly, Thank you to the FicSisters for pimping the crap out of this today. It is so very appreciated!

Now, on with the show… ;)

...

**Chapter 1**

The subway grinds and sputters, the noises in the background mixing with the voices all around me. Every morning starts like this. Tedious. Boring.

Everything is the same. The grinding of the wheels on steel and the ins and outs of strangers as they get to where they need to go. Some mornings I wonder why I don't move closer downtown, but then reality rears its ugly head and reminds me how expensive living there can be. The last apartment I checked out was small enough in its entirety it could have fit in my current bedroom. They wanted nine hundred dollars for it, too. It was ridiculous. The only way I could live downtown and still manage to feed myself would've been to live with someone else. I shudder at that thought.

A subway pass and mindless hours wasted riding to-and-fro, in the looming underground city, is what I get for wanting to save money on rent, and not having to share space with a friend, or worse, a stranger.

Oh, and I get to see _him_.

Right on cue, our car grinds to a halt and my heart races. I peek at my phone and, yeah, it's seven forty-three. Swallowing my anticipation, I let my eyes dance toward the door to my right. I can feel my throat go dry as I wait to see him. I don't know why he affects me this way, but he does. He makes my mornings so much better. Oddly enough, it's like he brightens up the dreary tunnels of the Toronto underground.

When I've almost given up, and right before the doors start sliding closed, he steps in between them. His presence envelops me like a warm blanket from afar. I don't even know his name, yet knowing he's here with me makes me feel … safe. Protected. It's ridiculous, really.

I can see in his features and the small beads of sweat on his forehead that he's been running. His breathing is choppy and he barely looks around for a place to sit before he grabs on to the pole overhead and leans his forehead on his forearm. His eyes close and I watch him, all six foot something of his frame, as he seems to relax while the cart moves forward toward downtown.

The ninety-nine cent Kindle book I picked up last night is forgotten as my eyes roam his body. This is the first time I've gotten to see him for so long. He usually chooses a seat down the other end of the car. This is my lucky morning, too bad it has to be on a day which seems to be his unluckiest.

His eyes open and he looks around, his gaze meeting mine for a split second, but I quickly look away. I feel my face heat up, and for some reason I know he's still looking. I can feel his eyes on me, assessing or maybe judging. I fiddle with my phone and turn on the music app, popping in the ear buds and hoping I'm able to read a few pages of this book before getting to my stop.

I can't concentrate for the life of me and a small—well, probably huge—part of me wonders if he's still looking or if I'm going crazy. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and lift my head, intent on stretching or scratching or … something, anything to look like I'm not looking at him. I'm certifiable, obviously, but that's okay. This is Toronto, and I'm only one person among a whole bunch of others, so together we blend. He won't remember seeing me tomorrow. It's probably crazy I even remember seeing him myself.

Opening my eyes, I reach up with both arms and crack my knuckles over my head. It's not weird or anything, but the fact that the moment my eyes meet his, he smirks, is totally weird. And oddly satisfying. He's looking. At me. _Score_.

Playing it cool is not my strong suit, but I shake my head, roll my eyes, and look away. Apparently, I'm an idiot. My cheeks are warm and I'm probably red, but that's okay because damn, he was looking. And he's fine. I feel like I'm in grade school and that's completely ridiculous, since I'm in my mid-twenties, for crying out loud.

I want to shake myself, or facepalm, but I don't because that would definitely make me look like a bigger fool. So instead, I pretend I didn't see him checking me out and go back to staring down at my phone.

My foot twitches and I find myself nodding and bobbing my leg to the beat coming out of my headphones. Vedder is especially good live and this song makes all my girly bits light up and tingle.

I lick my lips and take a deep breath, feeling the music flow through me. The deep tones reverberate from my head all the way down to my toes and I lean my head back, eyes open and unfocused. I'm so busy trying to ignore Hot Sexpender Guy I don't notice he's moved a few feet closer to me. The subway has stopped a couple times since he got on and more people have joined us on this morning's trip.

I can't help where my eyes roam, as again, like a magnet, they focus on his face. He's all lean and angular, soft lips and bushy brows. His eyes are light blue and his lashes long and dark. He's looking out the window somewhere behind me, so I take full advantage of this by taking in—and by that I mean seriously appreciating—as much of the view as I can.

His hair is a dishevelled mess and I briefly wonder where his usual fauxhawk has gone. Either way, the mess on his head looks good on him. The colour, a mix of browns and penny colours, seems natural, something unexpected when looking at the rest of him. I would have thought he'd have dyed it some other colour, but I'm grateful he hasn't. I like it this way.

I let my eyes travel down his broad shoulders and strong arms, noticing how the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up and there's ink on one of his arms that seems to cover most of it. I can see swirls of dark ink run up the side of his neck and I instinctively lick my lips, wondering what's under the rest of his shirt.

His dark cargo pants hang low on his hips and he's wearing Doc Martens that look like they've seen better days. I look down at my own feet and smile, knowing how loved those boots are by how beat up they look.

Crossing my legs, I tear my eyes away. I'm being completely ridiculous. This poor guy doesn't deserve to be eye-fucked by some random stranger. I need help. And quick.

The train screeches to another stop and yet more people pile into the already full car. I briefly wonder why everyone wants the end cars, before realising that I, myself, will only sit at the front or back car. Seeing train derailments on TV has taught me it's usually only the middle cars which get twisted together in burning piles of metal and plastic. If I'm going to go out, I'd rather not go out that way.

Somehow, through the shuffling and shoving, Hot Sexpender Guy is suddenly right in front of me. And by right in front of me, I mean when I tilt my head down from where it's been resting on the back of the seat and open my eyes, his crotch is _right in front of_ my face.

Damn that's awkward, and a little hot. I wonder if he'd notice if I sniffed him.

The train starts to move again, and he must not have been holding on tight enough to the bar as he lurches forward and almost falls right on top of me. Due to the placement of my hands holding my iPhone, his crotch presses into the backs of my hands. I hold my breath and try to move them away before I'm too tempted to cop a real feel.

My gaze lifts and I can see him staring out the window; he doesn't glance down at me. I don't know what this means; did he not feel it? Is he as embarrassed as I am? I huff out a breath, annoyed with myself. Even if I did manage to talk to this guy, he's probably not going to want to put up with my brand of crazy. Fuck, even I get sick of it. I decide that for the rest of the ride to my stop I'm going to simply ignore him and read.

This is much easier said than done.

Reading and ignoring would work so much better if the train wasn't subtly moving side to side. Every time the train tilts to my side I feel the brush of his crotch against my hands. My panties are growing damper by the minute. It's moments like these that make me happy I keep a change of clothes in my locker at work. If this keeps going, I'm totally going to need to change my underwear when I get to the office.

The train announces my stop is next, so I put my iPhone away in my pocket and start to gather my stuff. I'm hoping Mr. Hottie gets the hint and moves himself away from me, but he doesn't, so I try to get it done as swiftly as possible without brushing up against him. I'm starting to think he liked being groped by the weird chick that enjoys ogling his fine self.

There's nothing more annoying than those who aren't ready to disembark from the train when their stop comes. It's usually those idiots who hold the whole thing up when they rush out at the last minute, hitting the door and making it reopen. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy, however, still makes no move to allow me to get up, even though I've said excuse me a couple times.

Finally annoyed I snap. "I said, excuse me."

He looks down at me and the corner of his lip lifts up in a smirk. I don't know if I want to kiss him or slap him. I settle for huffing in annoyance and giving him a dirty look, hoping I don't look too constipated.

The rest of his lips join in, so now he's full on grinning at me. I glare at him in response, narrowing my eyes into the evilest look I can muster—which probably makes me look more like a scared kitten—and decide to say fuck it; if he wants to be a jerk, I can be one right back.

I stand to my full height, practically dragging myself up the front of his body, my erect nipples grazing his firm torso as I go. The train screeches into the stop and tilts again, causing my legs to hit the seat and me to pitch backward. Thankfully, before my ass can hit the seat, a strong arm is wraps around my waist and I'm pressed fully up against the hot stranger's chest.

Christ, he smells good. I close my eyes and momentarily lose myself in his smell, dragging my nose up his shirt and inhaling deeply.

I look up at him and arch my brow, glancing back down at his hand on the side of my waist, and up again at his face, willing him to let me go, so a) I'm not late for work, and b) I don't burst into flames. My scowl has softened to something closer to "resting bitch face," but I decide it'll have to do considering the current circumstances.

The train comes to a complete stop, and I can see the doors are opening. I can't be late, so I hastily push myself away from his body and duck around him, darting out the door right before it closes.

As the train pulls away, I can see him staring at me through the window, an indiscernible expression on his face.

He's all I can think about as I walk the rest of the way to work. I'm practically dripping, thinking about his firm chest and the way my nipples felt rubbing against it. I'm half horny and half mortified over the situation. Why couldn't he have moved out of my way? Did I really want him to move, after all? I kind of liked that he had to save me from falling into that seat, and I kind of liked the way my body felt against his.

As I reach the door to my office building, I wonder what our bodies would feel like pressed together without clothes. I'm definitely glad for that change of panties now.

I walk by Alice, and she waves at me. I wave back and motion toward the break room. She nods, and I head back there to change before starting my shift.

I don't do much all day but think of him and what might happen on the train ride home. Alice tries to distract me a few times with inane chatter, but I keep my mouth shut, telling her everything's okay and my weekend was boring, as usual. I don't want to add fuel to anything she may be gossiping about, and the last thing I need is someone interfering in my business.

Alice's big mouth has a reputation around the office. She's one of my closest friends, but Lord knows I don't tell her much. Being an introverted freak has its advantages. People tend to steer clear of me sometimes because they don't know how to handle my quiet contemplation. It's a good thing my job usually involves a lot of concentration, so I'm left alone in my office during most of the day.

During those times where I need to get out of my head for a little while, Alice does most of the talking, and I'm okay with that. Her chatter is like background noise. If she wasn't such a genuinely nice person—apart from the spreading rumours, which I'm not even sure she's aware of doing—I'd have dropped her ass a long time ago.

Our jobs as data entry technicians get boring after a while, but the pay is decent. That's how I met Alice three years ago. I'd gotten this job as a way to make ends meet before getting something else. But, I found the hours were regular and the pay was pretty good, so here I am three years later with no plans of going anywhere else. Some may look at my business degree as a waste, but I think it was a good stepping stone to get me where I am now.

"Any plans tonight?" Alice asks as I'm hastily getting my things together, ready to walk out the door at five thirty. I know if I can make it to the subway for the five forty-three train, chances are I'll run into Hard Crotch Guy again. He's occupied my head for most of my day and I am desperate for another fix.

"No more than the usual." I give her a soft smile and pick up my bag, hoping she understands I'm in a hurry.

"How's Jake?" she asks, eyes hopeful. Jake is my downstairs neighbor. He's a nice guy, but judging from the way he was kissing his roommate, I'm pretty sure he's batting for the other team. Her interest in him is sweet, but I doubt he'll ever reciprocate.

"Still seeing Sam," I answer quietly, hoping she gets the hint. She's always asking about him and telling me how cute she thinks he is.

Her eyebrows pucker and she looks deflated. "That's nice."

"Sorry, Alice." I look at my watch and sigh. No point in trying, I know I'll miss my train. May as well wait another fifteen minutes and take the next one. My chances of seeing the object of my obsession are slim for this evening, but I know I'll see him tomorrow morning for sure. He's always there in the morning, whereas evenings are touch and go.

"Do you think Jake's little brother's gonna come over next weekend?" she wonders, oblivious to the fact I just want to leave already.

I frown and take a deep cleansing breath, because really, what am I, her errand girl? "I didn't know you knew Jasper."

She rolls her eyes at my obvious annoyed tone. "Yeah, remember the party in your building a few weeks ago?"

Of course I remember, how could I forget? The boys were doing their Saturday night thing, while Alice and I had rented a movie, opting for a girls' night in. At hearing all the commotion, she'd taunted me into introducing her to my neighbors. She's been hounding me about Jake ever since. "Of course I remember. It was loud and you ditched me for cheap beer and loose morals."

"No, Bella, _you _ditched _me _because it was late and you said you wanted to go to sleep. I swear, sometimes you're like an old maid." She looks at her nails and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "Anyway, Jake mentioned a single brother. I just thought I'd ask."

"Sorry," I concede. "I haven't seen him much. My stalking has toned down a bit since I got a life." I raise an eyebrow.

"I didn't tell you to stalk him, I was just wondering about his brother. What's with you?" she asks, leaning against my desk. My palms are starting to sweat as the need to run down to the subway station grows exponentially. In spite of what I've just told her, it would seem stalking has become my favourite hobby.

"I'm tired," I lie. "You know it takes a while to get home and it's been a long day."

She nods. "I know. I'm sorry." She smiles sympathetically and pats my arm. "Mondays suck, right? Tomorrow's another day."

I nod, relieved. "Yeah, bad case of the Mondays."

She walks me out; our conversation finally over. Thank fuck because I've wasted almost half an hour, but I know for sure _he _won't be in that car now.

Dammit.


	2. Chapter 2

**It's Tuesday somewhere! :D**

**Thank you all so freaking much for reading, reviewing and pimping this!**

**Mid beta'd; Kni pre-read; and you're all awesome for sticking with us! **

**...**

**Chapter 2**

Funny thing about spending time going in and out of the tunnels, while looking around for a guy I know won't show up, I end up noticing some new graffiti and have time to think about where this guy may live.

He always gets on at Dupont and I get off on St. Andrew while he keeps on riding. I've never run into him anywhere else in the city, and he seems to keep pretty much the same weekly schedule as I do. He also has an affinity for the last subway car, as evident by his appearance in the past few weeks. Judging by the fact I've never seen him before, I can only assume he's new to the area or new to his job.

I spot the signs for Yorkdale and get ready to exit, mindlessly going over these little cues. Yes, stalking's my new hobby. My name is Bella and I have issues.

The evening is warm, and I'm able to quickly catch the bus that thankfully will drop off my ass right at the front door to my apartment.

Throwing my keys in the little bowl on the table by the door, I exhale a sigh of relief. I've survived another Monday. Triumphant and starving, I get a beer, warm up some rice and vegetables from last night's takeout, and plop myself down on the couch.

There's nothing on television and my mind plays this morning's events on a loop. I still can't believe he was that close to me; that his crotch was in my face.

My skin heats up and I close my eyes, transported back eleven hours to when the soft fabric of the front of his pants brushed up against the back of my hand and fingers.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I've gone insane.

I finish my beer and food, then take a shower, letting the grime from the city and public transportation go right down the drain.

...

_I'm pressed __to __his chest, inhaling his scent, my eyes closed, and I moan in appreciation. His chest is so firm, so hard beneath my breasts, and I want to lick it; trace his nipples with my tongue. The train shudders to a stop and the doors open. He practically drags me off the train__,__ pushing me up against the nearest wall._

_His lips are on mine before I can blink. I still don't know his name__,__ but he's owning my mouth like nobody's business. I don't think I've ever been so thoroughly kissed in all my life. I can feel him hard against my stomach and I wish I knew what he felt like inside me. I'm wearing a skirt today and I can feel his fingers tracing up my thigh. I ache. I want any part of this man inside me. I don't care we're on the subway platform that smells like piss, and the homeless guy __who __plays the violin is just down from us probably getting a bird__'__s__-__eye view of what's going on beneath my clothes._

_His fingers slide up higher, and I press myself __to __him tighter__,__ gripping his hair with both hands. Our kisses are sloppy and wet, hell I'm wet, but he doesn't seem to mind. I can feel him now, __right __at the edge of my panties; he's slowly pulling them to the side, the tips of his fingers brush my clit __..._

I'm jarred awake by the sound of the fire alarm. Damn it, it was a dream, a good dream from the state of my underwear and the fact my fingers are inside them. I debate staying in my apartment and ignoring the alarm, but I'm paranoid and want to live to see him in person instead of my dreams, so I grab the remote to turn off the TV.

Just as I'm about to shut it off, the news comes back from commercial. They're showing a recorded video from the subway that was filmed a week ago and has finally gone viral. They are asking if anyone has any information about the couple who were practically screwing on the platform. Now I know the inspiration behind my dream. Some of the original story must have broken through while I was sleeping. When I'm about to click off, I notice something about the girl in the video. Something very small but _very_ familiar. With a wicked grin I click it off and head outside.

It takes only minutes for the fire department to show up. Fuck my life. Newton is here. I went to school with the prick and he's had the hugest crush on me forever. He thinks he's hot shit because he's a hero. I snort internally, yeah he pulled a fucking cat from a tree his first week on the job. All Hail King Newton, pussy saver.

He's trying to talk to me, but I'm ignoring him. His fire buddies are searching the building and he's searching my body. Thankfully, the other tenants keep him busy while I huddle alone in a corner and ignore everyone, intent on going back to bed sooner rather than later. Like I appreciate standing outside in the cold for twenty minutes in nothing but my nightshirt and underwear on this late summer evening. It's getting cold out here in the North.

When the building is finally deemed safe, all the while ignoring Mike and his inappropriate catcalls, I go back to my apartment to sleep.

...

Morning comes and with it does a new sense of determination. I board the subway train in a mix of anxious and horny; thoughts of my dream still flickering in the back of my mind. As the train pulls into his station, I can see him standing on the platform. He's managed to make it on time today. I smile down at my lap but pretend to ignore him as he boards the train. I glance up without raising my head. I don't want him to see me attempting to find where he is on the train.

I can't see him anywhere and I'm wondering if he's upset with me over what happened yesterday. Maybe he thinks I'm a total bitch. I frown and heave a sigh, pulling my iPhone in front of me again. Fuck Jake and his love of Candy Crush. I swore I would never play, but here I am, begging people to give me a life so I can try and beat level 69. Jake thinks it's hilarious I've been stuck on that level for weeks. Jackass. I'm so going to show Sam that picture I took of him in his tighty-whities dancing à la Tom Cruise in _Risky Business_. Bitch should have closed his damn door.

I feel a nudge against my foot but ignore it. People can be assholes on public transit, but I'm willing to let it go once. Two minutes later I feel another nudge against my foot. This time I glare up at the person in front of me, only to suck in a breath when I realise it's him. He gives me a smirk. Oh, he wants to play does he? I give him the bitch brow and go back to playing the game from hell. I'm growing increasingly frustrated and pretty sure I'm growling when I feel a small tug on my iPhone. I glance up again and I'm literally nose to crotch with Mr. Hottie.

_Oh, holy fuck!_ I kind of want to die right now, or nuzzle my face against him. My hands loosen and he straightens up, my phone in hand. He plays around on it for a few seconds, while I sit here in my seat, cheeks no doubt red, wondering if he's leaving his phone number for me or sending himself a text so he can have my number. When he suddenly passes the phone back to me without a word and walks away, I look at the phone to see what he's done.

The fucker has passed level 69 in one life.

I don't know whether to be pissed off or grateful, but they announce my stop, so I gather my things and move toward the door.

Just as the train is pulling into the station, an arm pops out and grabs my wrist stopping me from going farther. I look over and there he stands, leaning against the pole, smiling at me. He makes no sound, just stares. The look in his eyes makes me nervous and horny. I'm practically squirming under his gaze and my eyes dart to his lips as they part slowly and he licks them before saying, "I'm—"

I don't get to hear what he was going to say as the doors open and I get pulled out with the crowd.

I'm practically on cloud nine as I walk into the office. Not only did Hot Subway Guy touch me, but he beat the dreaded Candy Crush level and tried to speak to me. However, that's not the only reason for my good mood today.

I spot the object of my excitement at her desk. "Alice, how are you today?"

She looks at me warily. "I'm fine, Bella. How about you?"

"I'm feeling very well today, Alice. Say, that's a really nice bracelet you're wearing. It's one of a kind, isn't it?" I ask her innocently.

She looks up at me. I smirk. She pales. I laugh. "You can buy me lunch to buy my silence," I say with a wide grin on my face. "And maybe next time you decide to get it on in public you'll leave your jewellery at home."

Satisfied, I walk to my desk, laughing as she flips me the double bird.

…

We're having lunch—on Alice's wallet, since this is the only way my lips are staying sealed about that subway romp the entire city has had a chance to see—and I'm trying not to laugh as she explains what has been going on with her the past few days.

"So why were you asking me about Jasper if you'd already fucked him senseless in the subway?" I ask her through fits of giggles.

"It was so unexpected," she explains with a sigh. "We hit it off that night at Jake's party. He showed up after you left and had me a complete mess. We didn't fuck; by the way, it was just some heavy over-the-clothes-against-the-wall dry humping."

"And you never told me because ...?" Not that I would've wanted to know, but she's got such a big mouth, I'm surprised she was actually able to keep this to herself.

"I was embarrassed," she whispers, looking down at her plate. "It's not something I'm proud of."

"Well, it was all over the eleven o'clock news last night. So, you may want to talk to him before he tells anyone and you two get arrested," I warn her, giving her a stern look. I should be ashamed of even thinking of groping Hot Subway Guy now, knowing they have cameras everywhere and could potentially catch us in the act. Not that anything would ever happen, but now that we've graduated to mobile phone games, you never know. Candy Crush this morning could lead to Angry Birds tonight, and by next month Lord only knows what we could be playing.

"That's the problem," she shrieks, throwing her hands up and then banging her forehead on the table. I can barely hear her when she continues. "I didn't get his number and I don't want to go to Jake's to get it."

I laugh. I can't help it. This is just too much. "And why can't you go to Jake's?"

"Because I flirt with Jake all the time and had an obvious crush on him, in spite of him being gay. And now I'm the hosebag who hooked up with his brother when we both took the train to get home that night," she mumbles into the tabletop. She then raises her head and gives me a pleading look. "Do you think you can talk to Jake for me?"

I take pity on her and agree to go see Jake later tonight. I'm surprised I didn't see him last night during the fire alarm debacle. But then again, it was all such a blur of activity that I probably wouldn't have noticed he was even there unless the building was actually on fire.

I kind of had other _hot_ things on my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The tunnel's crowded tonight. There are people milling around everywhere. The clock on my phone indicates I should be within the perfect window to see Mr. Hottie Subway Guy this evening. Maybe I can even get his name this time. We're apparently into game sharing; the logical thing should include knowing each other's names. Plus, I'm getting tired of trying to find clever nicknames for how hot he is. It's getting a little old and I'm slightly annoyed with myself.

I stand on my toes and look around the platform, hoping all these people aren't here waiting for the same train. If that's the case, it'll be crowded as hell and I probably won't get a seat. That's fine, but I'd still rather be comfortable on my ride home.

Hearing some of the other patrons talking, I realise the reason there're so many people is because the bus service was disrupted due to an accident and a lot of people chose to take the subway instead. Great, this means we're all, in fact, waiting for the same ride home.

I sigh and take a deep breath, propping my backpack over my shoulder. It's not that heavy, but I've had a long day—as usual—so its heaviness just makes my tired limbs ache a little more.

Someone elbows my side, and I move over a little, giving the asshole a bitch brow. I probably shouldn't make eye contact with anyone here, but it's late and we've already established I'm annoyed and tired. Too many people make me feel antsy and I don't like it.

Finally, I hear the swoosh of the train coming down the track as it finally makes an appearance in front of us. People are piling into each car like it's their last hope to get to the pearly gates, while I choose the first door to the last car as I usually do. I'm being pushed through the doors, people almost running over others to get a good spot. I don't even have time to grab onto a bar and settle myself properly before the train starts moving again, jarring forward while I stumble backward and step onto someone's foot.

I cringe and gasp, swearing as I manage to get a hand onto the overhead bar, before turning my head to apologise to the poor soul whose foot I just obliterated with my size nine Doc Martens.

"I have big feet," I say, turning around and looking up. The next words get stuck in my throat as my eyes meet _his _grey-blue ones.

"So do I." He smirks, a dimple appearing on his left cheek. His voice is rich, and I realise it's the first time I've heard it speak more than one word.

I can't believe after all this time these are the first real words we exchange. I laugh, running a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry I hurt your big foot."

He shrugs, moving to let someone by. "I'll survive."

The train jars, and I stumble again. But this time he catches me; his arm going around my waist and my nose brushing up against the lapel of his black button down.

I close my eyes, totally taking advantage of my position to breathe him in like I did last time. He smells amazing; all man and spicy and woodsy. I want to bathe in it.

It doesn't escape my notice that he doesn't let me go right away. Instead, I feel him splay his hand on my side and run his thumb up and down, its movement tickling a little. I squirm and look up. "All right, Casanova." I clear my throat, trying to get my mind out of the gutter it seems to always go to whenever this guy's around.

He squeezes me a bit and then lets me go. "Sorry," he says, but the gleam in his eye tells me otherwise.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "I'm sure you are." I realise too late I'm being a bit of a bitch, but I can't take the words back, so I add, "So, Candy Crush?"

He closes his eyes and gifts me with a wide smile. "It's a hobby."

"You're good." The train stops and, again, we are jarred sideways, bumping into each other.

"I'm good at a lot of things." He says this while he's helping a lady with her stroller as she attempts to get out and onto the platform.

His appearance—dark clothes and visible ink—clearly makes the lady uneasy, but she thanks him quietly and pushes the stroller down the platform, while my riding partner comes back to stand next to me.

I've never really considered his appearance as something that would turn me off. In fact, his slight punk-grunge look is exactly what turns me on. He obviously works somewhere he has to wear dark clothes, because every time I see him he's wearing cargos and a dark button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He's always clean, so I know that wasn't her issue, but some people get antsy around tattoos. Personally, I just want to see where they start and end. He doesn't have any piercings, not even in his ears, which is okay, but surprising. I'm used to seeing people with holes in their faces and ears; hell, I have more metal in my left ear than my mom cares to see.

We stand next to each other not really talking. I want to ask his name, but I don't. There're too many people around us and the noise level is off the charts; it's not like I'd hear him anyway.

Unfortunately, his stop comes up quicker than I'd like. "This is me," he tells me loudly; drowned out by the noise coming from the boisterous crowd of boys in the back of our car.

"See you tomorrow morning," I tell him as I watch him move toward the door. I'm not even sure he hears me.

He winks as the car stops and he's practically trampled out the door.

The rest of the subway ride is uneventful, save for the noise. Thankfully, my bus is right on time and I'm home quickly, throwing myself on the sofa with a huff. After a quick bite to eat, I remember to talk to Jake, and then end up spending way too much time on the phone with Alice.

At least when I do finally fall asleep; tonight my dreams don't get interrupted by fire alarms or the latest sex scandal.

…

Sitting in the subway, minding my own business, I'm not waiting for him. Not really. Or maybe it's merely wishful thinking. I'm not a stalker or anything. I mean, I don't even know his name. It's too early for these thoughts.

He walks through the door just as expected. Today, his shirt is dark burgundy and his sleeves aren't rolled up. This is too bad, but it could be due to the fact it's getting colder outside. Summer's getting ready to turn into fall, which means we'll soon have to wear more layers. Being Canadian sucks sometimes.

I watch out the corner of my eye as he finds a spot right in front of me. I look up and the first thing I see is his crotch. Unable to contain my amusement, I snort and go back to reading on my phone, enjoying the cat and mouse game we're playing.

The subway shakes a little and he takes a step forward, bumping into my knees. This is reminiscent of what happened a few days ago and I laugh, my shoulders bobbing. Looking up, I frown trying my best to look annoyed, but my expression changes to a smirk when I see his face. He's cute, so very cute. His cheeks pink and eyes light. He looks like he's had a good morning.

His eyes meet mine as if he can feel me watching. "I'm Edward," he says, licking his lips.

I purse my lips before answering, "Bella." My heart hammers against my rib cage. This is surreal. We are finally on a first name basis. I want to squee like an R5 fan girl. I may actually gossip with Alice about this later. Or not. Probably not.

More people cram onto the subway and Edward moves farther into my personal space. His crotch gets closer and closer to my face until I'm almost nose to penis. Again.

I look up and his arms are raised over his head, holding onto the bar to steady himself, so he doesn't fall right on top of me, but the humour in his face gives him away.

"Seriously?" I ask him, my eyes going down to his crotch and back up to meet his.

He shakes his head and looks away, shrugging. "I'm sorry."

"So, Edward, huh?" My ability for chit-chat this early in the morning without coffee is pretty lame.

He nods. "Just don't call me Eddie. Vedder's the only one who can pull that off."

I lean back into my seat and glance up at him. "So you weren't just completing my level then, eh?"

He scrunches his face. It's really fucking adorable. "Not really. You should keep a closer eye on your contact list."

The lady next to me is knitting up a storm and watching us like we're some soap opera. All I hear in my periphery is the incessant tic-tac of her needles as they criss-cross over the yarn. If I were in any danger here, they'd come in pretty handy. Those needles are pointy and scary, so I don't say anything as she laughs to herself every time Edward says something funny.

"I've seen you around here a lot," I tell him, shifting uncomfortably on my seat. It's warm in here and his proximity certainly isn't helping. I can smell his mixture of aftershave and boy-smell all the way down here and over the normally nauseating subway stench. I like it more than I should.

"I've seen you, too," he replies, watching me. His eyes are intense and I like his quiet, no nonsense attitude. His gaze doesn't waver as he stands here, and it's comforting that he doesn't care who's watching us interact. I don't care either.

We chit-chat a bit more about my inability to play games, and I can't help when my eyes occasionally glance down at his crotch area. You can't blame a girl, I mean, it's right there.

He catches me and raises his eyebrows, to which I just shrug. I'm such a pervert. My face is red and he's all carefree and laughing it off.

What he doesn't realise is how close he is to getting groped. Good thing Alice's little tryst has turned me off of subway rendezvous. We talk a little bit about where we go when we get off the train and it somehow doesn't surprise me to learn he works at a music store and gives lessons. I find myself a little sad I have no good reason to go to Queen and Bathurst to drop by and see him in his element. The thought of him helping some kid to learn guitar makes my ovaries want to explode.

My stop approaches and once again he refuses to get out of my personal space, so I rub right up against him as I stand. This time I don't even bother to hide the fact I'm sniffing him—let him know I can be crazy; if he can't deal with that, then we'll be better off knowing it now.

Just as the train is pulling out of the station, my phone starts blasting the first twangy chords from _Just Breathe_, indicating an incoming text. I choke out a laugh when I realise he's somehow managed to not only program in his number, but send himself a text, finish the blasted level 69, and change the ringtone for himself to Pearl Jam all in the span of five minutes. I'm not sure if I want to be impressed or slap him the next time I see him, just because he's so cocky and smug and apparently has awesome taste in music.

I laugh harder as I read the text:

**Your ass looks fantastic in those pants!—E**

I turn around in time to see him wink at me through the window.

Well played Edward, well played.

…

**Well, seems these two are now officially on first name basis!**

**A huge thanks to our ladies, Mid and Kni, for their awesomeness.**

**Thank you all so much for reading! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I'm practically skipping into work. I've decided to tell Alice about my subway guy. I'm fully aware how sensitive she is to the whole subway thing, but I don't care. She should've thought about that before she let Jasper attempt to put his train in her vagina at Spadina. I'm also aware of the fact I am bitter she's seen more action in those five minutes than I've seen in months.

When I walk through the door, however, she's not sitting at her desk. Confused, I pull out my phone to send her a text, when my boss, Rosalie, walks up to me.

"Oh, good, Isabella, you're here." She waves her arms frantically, which makes her look like a bird. I duck to avoid getting hit. "Alice called this morning. She won't be in today, so I'll need you to cover front reception."

Great, just fucking great; I hate working the front desk. I'm not a morning person or a people person. Hell, I'm not an any part of the day person, but it's worse when I have to deal with assholes. Don't they already know this about me? I'm content to sit in my cube and enter my data; thank you very much. They should never unleash me on the poor unsuspecting public. They don't like it much either. Rosalie must be desperate or she'd have Tanya cover. She must have called in, too. Whore.

After a few minutes of unabashedly staring at her like she has two heads, I finally snap out of it. "Oh, is Alice sick?" I ask.

She shakes her head frantically and flutters her hands around again. I manage to dodge to the left this time, but my movements are too slow as her gigantic ring manages to clip me in the face. "Oh, oh God, Isabella, I'm so, so sorry!" She gasps, clutching her mouth, her eyes watery. I think she may actually faint. Such a drama queen. I'm the one who may be scarred for life here. Literally.

I can feel the slight sting and a warm trickle. Fucking lovely; I'm bleeding. I roll my eyes. "It's fine Rosalie; you didn't mean it. Is everything okay?" She's usually a little off, but never this batshit. Especially not this early in the morning.

She starts to hyperventilate, so I gently push her into a chair and back up so I won't get hit again. "Take a deep breath—in and out, in and out." I can think of at least one other thing I'd like going in and out. God, I'm a pervert, but I can't stop thinking about Edward's cock, and how close it was to my face, and I could have just—.

I realise Rosalie is speaking, mouth moving a hundred miles a minute. "What was that? Slowly this time, Rose."

She breathes in again, now wringing her hands together, "Tanya called in sick." She takes a deep breath, then continues, "Actually, Tanya called in to say she's going on a two-week vacation, with no notice, and Daddy's stopping by today to see how things are running." She gives me a pleading look. "You suck with people, but I have no choice except to put you on the front desk because Alice isn't coming in either. She said, and I quote: 'I'm too mortified to come in to work with this ink on my fingers'." Rose says this last part in one breath, putting air quotes around Alice's statement. "Do you think she got tattoos on her fingers? Oh, God, I hope not because I love Alice, and Daddy has a thing against visible tattoos at work and he'd have my ass and her job. Isabella, what am I going to do? It's Emmett's birthday and I don't have a present, and oh, my God, Daddy's going to be fit to be tied. Do you think he'll fire me? He can't fire me, right? I'm his only child." Her eyes are wide and she's clearly on a train headed to crazytown.

I can see the tears forming in her eyes, and as much as she's a drama queen she did give me this job. I can't help but like her … somewhat … when she's not talking. Or around me. Or in the building, really. But she's nice in her own extremely over-the-top kinda way.

I cut off her rant by grabbing her arms to still her nervous wringing and fluttering. The last thing I need is another scratch to the face, which reminds me I need to check if I need stitches, although my head wound has stopped bleeding. I think. I force her to breathe with me some more until the colour has returned to her cheeks.

"Okay, Rosalie," I say once she's calm. Well, as calm as she can get. "This is what we're going to do."

Three hours later we've managed to contact a temp agency to get someone to fill in for Tanya and Alice, saving me from having to work the front desk. Her dad has come and gone, pleased with how she "handled a rough situation." I'm not even shitting you. He patted her on the head like a dog. God, it's no wonder this girl is so fucked up, her dad treats her like she's going to break apart into teeny-tiny pieces and scatter in the wind.

Throughout all of this, I've texted Alice to find out the scoop. Turns out Jasper's mouth is as big as his dick, and when confronted by a friend about the video the idiot told him the truth.

Now, Canadians are the nicest people on the planet. Seriously, we are. We apologise for everything, even if it's not our fault, but offer up a reward for information leading to an arrest and we will sell you out faster than The Home Shopping Channel sells out of the Genie Bra. All it took was one call to the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC) and Jasper and Alice were booked on "lewd conduct in public" charges. Quil, the turncoat, got $1000 to spend for flapping his gums. He'll more than likely blow it on booze, weed, and scratch tickets, though. Fucking stoner.

Our last order of business is now to find Emmett, the neanderthal, a birthday gift. After talking to Rosalie I come up with the greatest plan ever. Well, I hope it will be great. It was pretty awesome when I read it in a novel last month.

We tell Bree to cover the office while we take an extended lunch. I end up really having to talk Rosalie into that one, but as it turns out, I have no shame and she's easily influenced.

Then, with a devious smirk planted firmly on my lips, we head out to the subway.

…

"Are you sure this is safe, Bella? Rosalie asks me for the fifth time while I try not to roll my eyes. Princess has never ridden the subway before. Even though she grew up downtown, Daddy and Mommy always insisted she have a driver. Poor sheltered thing, no wonder she behaves like a strong wind would knock her over. The girl needs some serious medication and to live a little. I vow to bring her out with me and Alice for a night, though she may have a heart attack and die. I decide on baby steps.

I really shouldn't stay in my head so much around her, though; Rose is afraid of her own shadow. I think she may have actually peed her pants when the panhandler asked her for change. She almost gave it to him too, before I slapped her hand, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a Tim Card. I don't give change to people. If they really want it for food or a warm drink, then all they need is a Tim Card. Tim Hortons has the best sandwiches and their coffee is more addictive than crack, though you may want to ask Toronto's Mayor, Rob Ford, about that last part.

We get on the subway and ride it the three stops to Queen Street. Emmett apparently loves vintage records, and I know the perfect person to go see about those.

I am aware I've officially crossed the line into crazy stalkerville, but I really don't give two sweet fucks.

...

There are a hell of a lot of vintage record and music stores on Queen Street. So many, I end up not finding Edward in the two we actually step into. With her obnoxious good luck, Rosalie finds the perfect gift in the second store we're in. In spite of my nagging and telling her she'd probably be able to find it cheaper somewhere else, she insists on getting this very one at this very store that does not contain a certain, tall, red-headed, tattooed demi-god.

Needless to say, I suck at this stalking thing. I should've picked up the name of the store where he was working. I mean, he probably mentioned it, but instead of taking notice, I zoned out probably because I'm an idiot with a crush on some guy I barely know, or maybe I was focused on his cock in my face at the time.

Good thing I'm not getting fired from my day job any time soon because stalking would make a horrible career choice. I know things now and Rose knows I know these things. At least I hope she thinks I do. Anyway, as long as she thinks I have leverage, I'm golden.

"No, we're not taking a cab back to the office," I tell Rose as we're making our way back down Queen Street. I love this part of the city. The older homes and vintage storefronts are full of character, and the architecture really denotes the core that is the city of Toronto. To top it all off, the sun is shining and the noises aren't too bad, considering the time of day.

She pulls me into a small café, inhaling deeply, and eyeing the fresh pastries. "I love this place, they have the best scones."

We discuss the office and a few deadlines while eating and enjoying our drinks. I've given up any hope of even making it to the subway in time to meet Edward later, and this epiphany makes my belly do a weird queasy thing. I don't like that. But this is my job and I can't take any more risks today. Baby steps, after all.

"So a taxi, yes?" Rose nods, already flagging one down in front of the coffee shop.

"If you're paying, I'm riding." I follow her into the taxi and listen as she rambles off the office address to the driver. I don't fight her on it because I really do have to stop at the office before heading home. The entire trip underground would take way too much time and probably drain me of whatever energy I have left after this exhausting day.

As we're going down the street, I see a familiar head of hair up ahead and recognise Edward immediately. He's walking alone, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. Just as the cab we're in passes him, his head jolts up and it's like the world stops forever as our eyes meet.

The smile he gives me is going to have to last until I see him again in the morning.

**I saw you.—E**

**I'll see you tomorrow.—B**

…

**All together now… AWWWWW…**

**As always, huge props to our ladies, Mid and Kni, for their help.**

**Thank you all for reading!**

**See y'all next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Your reviews make me all giddy! Thank you!**

**And thank you, Mid and Kni, for doing this for us.**

**Also, I forgot, we don't own Twilight…**

**...**

**Chapter 5**

I don't see him again the next day. As it turns out, the scones I ate yesterday did not agree with my stomach and I spent the night in the bathroom. No, I'm not going to tell you about it, suffice to say it was disgusting; I felt disgusting. The bathroom was disgusting. Hell, everything I touched, smelled, and looked at was disgusting.

At seven forty-three, while I'm lying in bed contemplating my disgusting life, my phone dings with a text.

**Where are you?—E**

**Sick. :(—B**

There's a minute of nothing, and I wait with bated—probably stinky and disgusting—breath to see if he'll say anything else. I close my eyes momentarily, but get distracted by another ding.

**Take care of yourself. I guess I'll see you on Monday.—E**

I feel sad I won't get to see him today; heck, I won't get to talk to him the rest of the weekend either, it seems.

**Yeah, see you then.—B**

If there was a special font for disappointment, I'd be using it.

I mercifully fall back asleep and wake a few hours later to a slew of texts.

**The train isn't the same without you.—E**

**I need you here to save me from this old lady. I think she just ****groped ****my ass.—E**

I giggle to myself, imagining the lady with the knitting needles trying to grope him. I bet she's feisty enough to do it, too.

**Okay, now I'm SURE she just ****groped ****my ass.—E**

**I'm bored.—E**

**Why does this train move so slowly when you aren't here, but too fast when you are?—E**

The texts make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and the last one makes me sigh. My belly does another flip-floppy thing, but this time it's not because of a bad scone. I don't know how I'm going to get through the weekend not seeing him.

...

I spend the day Saturday on the couch watching "The Big Bang Theory" reruns while my body adjusts to solid food. I'm not even kidding when I tell Alice I'm too sick to deal with her and Jasper. But, I have to admit it's a damn good reason to turn down her offer to double date. I do not want anything to do with any stinky-ass roommate of Jasper's. Lord only knows what kinds of cooties the dude must have from living with Alice's saveur du jour. _(flavo__u__r of the day)_

Luckily, between long bouts of sleep and some soup and crackers, I get myself back on track and the weekend passes by pretty quick but uneventful.

Edward sends me a few texts on Saturday, mostly asking if I'm okay. I end up replying early Sunday because we seem to always have bad timing, and in my defence, I did sleep a lot.

Our words are random, like: "what are you doing right now" type messages and I answer him back in the same way by asking him the same thing. Turns out he's been busy working overtime and spent Saturday at the store. We chat about mundane things too, and some "get to know you better" sorta stuff. It makes me happy, but really anxious for Monday. I want to see him, and by the simple things he's saying, he obviously feels the same way.

Just as I'm sitting down in my subway seat on Monday, my phone rings a familiar ring tone and I squeal. The obvious annoyance of my neighbour over who's calling me doesn't even faze me or bring down my buzz. I haven't spoken to my sister for so long. Lately it seems like we're always playing phone tag.

I chat with her about what our parents are up to. She tells me how Mom has taken up a toy making class and how she keeps giving my niece and nephew toys that, as my sister says, _"__...w__ill ultimately kill them. She doesn't reali__s__e they are choking hazards, Bella." _I snicker. My sister is such a control freak. Mom's having a ball, I bet.

I'm not paying any attention to the time, and zone out watching a particular grain of sand in the floor by my feet, until I smell a familiar smell and feel a nudge against my foot. I don't pause in my conversation, but look up and give Edward a shy smile, watching his face as his eyes crinkle at the corners and his lips curl up just right, revealing that one dimple which drives me absolutely batshit.

"Glad you're feeling better," he mouths to me. I grin and go back to my conversation with Ange, not taking my eyes off him for a second. I'd much rather be talking to Edward, but like I said, I haven't talked to her in forever. She fills me in on Ben's job and we chatter about other mundane things concerning our own work.

Edward nudges my foot again, this time by accident, as more people are crowding onto the subway than normal.

He's practically right between my thighs, and his crotch is super close to my face. Again. I'm starting to think he has some sort of fetish. Or maybe I'm starting to develop one.

He's wearing a trench coat today. It makes me envision leaning right in and, hidden behind his coat, taking him out of his pants and putting his dick in my mouth.

My mouth floods with saliva at the thought and I choke a little, causing Edward to arch his brow in question at me and my sister to ask me if I'm okay.

My mother, being French Canadian, raised us speaking both English and French fluently, and not wanting Edward to know how badly I've been perving on him I switch to French as I answer. "Mon Dieu, Angela, il y a un super de beau gars dans le train. Je te jure devant le bon Dieu que je deviendrais une pute pour ce gars là. Le train est assez plein ce matin, qu'il n'y a pas de place à bouger et il est tellement grand que j'ai son paquet dans ma face. Ça me donne presque envie de me coller après lui puis de le renifler juste un petit peu," I tell her, laughing. My skin's getting hot because of what I'm saying and I lick my lips imagining it. _("My God, Angela, there is a super-hot guy in the train. As God __a__s my witness, I would be such a whore for him. The train is so full this morning and there's so little room to move that I have his package right in my face. I almost want to nuzzle him and smell him a little.")_

"_Bella," _she giggles,_ "you can't nuzzle the hot guy's cock on the train. You'll get arrested like your friend Alice."_ She laughs. She thinks I'm kidding, but damn, this boy drives me nuts.

I laugh right along with her, my eyes roaming all over Edward's body, but I refuse to look at his face, embarrassed by what I said about him just now. I notice how he's white-knuckling the bar above his head and lick my lips as I watch the tendons on his arms flex and move under the colourful skin

"How did you hear about that?" I ask distractedly, switching back to English. I really didn't think anyone knew about Alice's little trip down to the police station except me and maybe a few of Jasper's friends. And the entire Toronto Police Squad.

She tells me she read it on Alice's Facebook and that it's pretty much common knowledge now. I'm surprised it wasn't all over the news.

Knowing I'll have to get off the train soon, I tell her I have to go. I end the call and glance up at Edward. His eyes are glazed over and he's still staring out the window. I'm not sure he's noticed I've hung up the phone.

"Sorry about that," I say to him, wanting—no needing—his attention. "It was my sister. I haven't spoken to her in a while."

He smirks down at me and runs his finger down my cheek, softly stroking it. He then brushes his thumb against my lower lip, so softly I can barely feel it. When the train tilts and his crotch area bumps against my hand, I swear he's hard as steel under those loose fitting cargo pants.

God, what I wouldn't give to have this man. On me. In me. That's it, I am a whore.

Edward doesn't say anything, our eyes connected, as his fingers gently caress the contours of my face.

The overhead speaker announces my stop is coming up, taking us out of our bubble. I gather my stuff and stand, playing the brush-against-Edward's-body game on my way up. Yes, he's definitely well on his way to being hard. And, dammit, I'm leaving.

This time when I'm fully pressed up against him, his arm around my waist, gripping me to him firmly, he bends a little and trails his nose up the side of my neck, causing me to shiver. I can barely breathe or even think coherently. My toes curl in response, and I may or may not whimper just a tad. Hopefully, it's swallowed by the sound of the train slowing down on the tracks.

Just as the train pulls into the station, he whispers in my ear, "Tu parles bien français, ma belle." _(You speak French well, beautiful.)_

My wide eyes fly up to his and a blush steals over my cheeks. I can't believe he understood that. What were the chances? Well, shit. Out of all the people in this city who can't understand a lick of French, he had to not only understand it, but speak it, too. My panties are dead. My mouth is hanging open. And I think my brain just went bye-bye.

Rubbing his cheek against mine, he whispers one last thing in my ear, "Checkmate."

He grins his smug little smirk at me, showing me that damn dimple, as I rush off the train as fast as I can, trying not to miss the open doors to my stop. When I look back at him through the window, he's shaking his head, his eyes on me, and biting his bottom lip. He looks like the sweetest sin, and I want to take a bite of that apple.

…

I make it into work, and Alice is sitting behind her desk, grinning so wide it makes her look like The Joker.

"Well, you seem to have made a miraculous recovery," I tell her, rolling my eyes. Apparently, she had called in on Friday as well, but thanks to my quick thinking on Thursday, Rosalie knew how to handle it with both Alice and I being gone.

Alice doesn't have the look of someone who's been sick for most of the weekend; in fact, the girl looks freshly fucked. Lucky bitch.

I give her the bitch brow. "Something you'd like to share with the class, Mary Alice?"

She glares at the use of her full name, but then grins wickedly at me and motions me over. I lean in toward her, and she looks around before saying, "I just spent the best weekend of my life, having the best sex of my life. Do you know how hot it is to watch your man go through booking? The handcuffs ... the fingerprints ..." She sighs. "Yes, I was embarrassed at first, but Bella, it was so fucking hot, that Jasper and I have done nothing but have wild, crazy monkey sex since we got released on bail."

My face scrunches up in disgust. Seriously, this girl has no filter. This is one of those instances where I really wish she did.

"Filing that in the TMI file, Alice," I groan. I don't really want to know how much she's been fucking, especially since I haven't been getting any. I may be a little jealous, although not jealous enough to get it on with a stranger on a subway platform in the middle of the night.

Well, unless you count that one time, this morning, where I let a stranger rub his clothes-covered dick against my hand, but that's a completely different scenario.

"Whatever." She waves me off, giggling like a loon. "You could have come out with us this weekend and gotten laid," she responds, wiggling her eyebrows. My face contorts in disgust. No. "But someone played sick and Quil had to fly solo," she sing-songs, while I practically throw up in my mouth.

Thank the Lord for small miracles that those scones knocked me on my ass, because if I'd shown up and Quil was there, I probably would be in jail for murder, and then I wouldn't see Edward anymore. Sigh. That would suck for so many reasons: like how pretty he is, and how I want to jump him, and what about the many babies we need to practice making?

My phone buzzes in my pocket, distracting me from my own damn crazy mind. Edward's texting me. I squeal, and Alice looks at me funny; her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

I walk away from her, keeping my eyes on my phone and without bothering to explaining myself. I really can't get over all the TMI crap she's spewed on me in the past five minutes. There's no amount of brain bleach to ever wipe away all that nasty.

When I get to my desk, I'm finally able to read Edward's words.

**I hope I didn't embarrass you.—E**

I sigh, and my lips curl up unexpectedly. I don't know how the mere thought of him makes me this giddy.

Little does he realise I am not embarrassed at all, if anything, I'm very turned on and way too excited about any of this with him. He manages to surprise me, and I like that about him. A lot. He's always very subtle with the way he handles things with me, and I've never felt that sort of quiet, electric connection before. Whenever he's around, it's like I can feel him there. It's always been like that with him and that energy has never ceased as we've gotten closer. Now, it seems to fizzle and buzz around us at every turn.

**Nah. I was just really surprised.—B**

**Mom's family is from the East Coast. Grandma couldn't say a word in English.—E**

**My mom is a pure Montrealer. I feel your pain.—B**

**French girl, huh?—E**

**Nah. Dad dragged her back to Kitchener kicking and screaming, but she fell in love with it and never looked back.—B**

**So you're from around here?—E**

**Born and raised. You?—B**

**Moved around a lot as a kid. Army brat.—E**

I smile to myself imagining Edward as a small boy. It's funny how I can't seem to be able to picture him as anything except the man I've been keeping an eye on for these past several weeks.

I console myself in the fact we've moved past sideway glances and are now getting to know each other. This is definitely a step in the right direction.

As my day goes by, Edward and I keep texting. A word or two here and there between mindless hours alone in my office. The paperwork has piled up plenty in my absence, so I'll have to put my nose to the grindstone if I want to get this all done in time. Deadlines are a bitch and nobody cares if I was sick or out gallivanting around the city with my boss. This shit needs to be done, pronto.

I send Edward a text at five thirty telling him I won't make it to the subway tonight. His answering sad face makes my own real face pouty, too. It's for the best though; I mean I can't get all caught up in this thing with him, if this is even a thing, and let my work slide. For all I know he could be playing me. I don't know him from Adam, but I decide I'd like to get to know him more face-to-face.

Texting's all well and good, but it doesn't tell me anything about his character. Which reminds me, I should definitely check out his Facebook page. You can tell a lot about a person by the crap they share. Although, with my luck, chances are he's hidden all the good shit. If I'm lucky though, his profile picture will be one of him standing topless in the middle of a forest. Don't judge me. The "Save Picture" button on my phone doesn't get half as much usage as it should.

The hum of the computer, along with the music buzzing lowly out of my speakers, are the only things I hear for the next hour, as I power through as much stuff as possible before it gets too late and I absolutely need to go. I hate taking the subway alone late at night, but I have to concede once I realise it's getting late enough. I will probably need to come in earlier and leave later for the next few days.

Turning off my computer and monitor, I quickly pick up my bag and jacket, and make my way down the dimly lit corridor that leads out into the main reception area. This place is eerily quiet and a shiver runs down my spine when my mind conjures up all sorts of deadly scenarios.

Reaching into my bag, I grab my keys and pepper spray. I hate when I get all paranoid like this. I've been raised around this city and know well enough to be careful.

Minding my own business, I make my way down to the tunnel and wait at my stop. It's quiet, nothing surprising at this hour. I spot a few teenagers goofing off on a skateboard, about a hundred feet from me, and get distracted as I watch them manoeuvre the board over a bench and some steps. I wonder idly when I got to be this old. Watching them, I almost don't feel the age difference, but I know it's there. The maturity and things we learn as we age chip away at the innocence we have when we're younger. Not that I'm that old, but at twenty-five, I feel like I've lived quite a bit.

My ride finally comes barrelling down the tunnel, bringing with it tons of noise and wind. It stops with the last car right in front of where I'm standing and I smile, shaking my head at myself. I'm way too used to this little routine, no wonder I've started flirting with strangers to find some way out of the boring Groundhog Day that is my perpetual life cycle.

I'm feeling a little emotional tonight and figure it must be due to my lack of proper sleep and maybe the fact I've put in an almost twelve hour work day.

Unfortunately, this is how the next few days are for me. I wake up, go to work, get inundated with pervy commentary from Alice, and then come home late. Texts from Edward are short but sweet. He doesn't berate me with too many and lets me call the shots. He's not distant whatsoever with the answers he provides, yet he gives me enough leeway with his questions that I don't feel as if he's being invasive in the least.

I may not see him face-to-face, but the connection we have while riding the train, is there in the words we share.

By Friday, I'm secure in the knowledge I'm all caught up and decide to go into the office at my usual time.

I'm giddy, my palms sweating in anticipation, as seven forty-three rolls around and I see him walk through those doors.

He looks at me then looks away, and my heart sinks a little, but then he looks back and puts his hand to his forehead. He strides over to where I'm sitting and leans right into my face.

"Am I hallucinating or are you actually here?" He purses his lips and looks me over from head to toe. The desire in his eyes is almost too much to bear as he does so. "I think I may have a fever. Are you a figment of my imagination?"

I laugh as I swat at him. What a dork. A hot dork, but a dork nonetheless. He grins at me and takes my hand, linking our fingers. He swings our hands between us, looking slightly bashful with the same sparkle in his eyes I imagine he must have at the sight of his favourite food. He then opens his mouth, shuts it again in hesitation, biting his bottom lip and sucking the plump skin between his teeth. I give his hand a gentle squeeze and he looks back down at me, letting go of his lip and relaxing his features.

His hair is done up in my favourite style today, the fauxhawk, and my fingers itch to make it all messy again. God, he's beautiful.

He smiles at me again then says, "So, I was thinking maybe after work you'd, uh, want to hang out or something?"

My breath catches in my throat. I've done nothing but think about going on a date with him, since I realised the other day that, other than our texts and the very short time we have to spend on the train, we don't really know each other and I really want to. I nod, whispering, "Sure."

He smiles so wide I'm worried for a minute it might crack his pretty face, and I can't help but grin back even wider.

We sit silently—well, I sit and he stands in front of me—for the rest of the ride to my stop, staring into each other's eyes. I wonder if he's thinking the same thing I am, but probably not. We've already established I'm a pervert.

When the time comes, I gather my stuff and stand, following my usual pattern of rubbing myself against him on the way up. This time when his arm wraps around me, I expect it. What I don't expect is his soft, lingering kiss on my cheek and his whispered, "I'll get off the train at your stop tonight and we can work out where we want to go, yeah?"

I blush and nod my head, promising to see him later, then head out the door with a spring in my step. This day is off to a fabulous start.


	6. Chapter 6

**Just a little reminder that this is completely written… but thanks for all the comments telling us to keep writing! :D**

**Another huge thank you goes out to Mid for her infinite patience and Kni for sticking with us. :D**

**Thank YOU for reading!**

…

**Chapter 6**

Alice pounces the minute I walk in the door. "Okay, so here's the deal. We're going out tonight and you are gonna get laid."

I open my mouth to tell her no, but she barrels on over top of me. "Jasper has a friend—no, it's not Quil. His name is Gary and he is capital H-O-T-T. You will come out with us. You will have a good time. And you will get laid, with Gary's big ..." She gives me a devious grin.

I shake my head, frowning. "Erm, no can do, Alice. I have my own date tonight. Besides, are you my pimp now?"

Her mouth gapes open. "First of all, I'm nobody's pimp. Second of all, with who? Is it the hot sexpender guy from the train?"

I smirk. "None of your business, Pimp Momma." I don't want to tell her anything more about Edward. Her curiosity will no doubt end up getting me followed. I know for sure she'll try to sneak a peek at him somehow. Curiosity is gonna kill Mary Alice.

"Come on, Bella," she prompts, stomping her foot like a toddler having a tantrum. "You have to tell me!"

I grin at her annoyance. "No, I don't."

She starts saying something, but my phone pings, indicating an incoming text. Walking away and ignoring her huffs, I glanced at my phone.

**Can't wait to see you tonight.—E**

I text back.

**I can't wait either.—B**

It's a wonder I can concentrate on my work. The butterflies in my stomach flutter non-stop all day and I'm both nervous and giddy to see him.

I can't wait to see where tonight will lead.

…

Making my way down to the platform, I have to consciously take my thumb out of my mouth to avoid chewing the whole thing right off. I'm a little nervous. Actually, I'm a lot nervous.

I've been overthinking this date for the last few hours. What are we going to do? Where are we going? There's nothing much in my neighborhood, except a few restaurants and, well, the obvious thing being my apartment. Though there is always that great diner near my place. I'm not sure being _at _my place alone with him is such a great idea. Hell, being anywhere alone with him will surely get me into some kind of trouble; seeing as I can hardly keep myself from groping his junk every chance I get.

Standing on the platform, I can barely contain my heart inside my own ribcage as it pounds inside my chest. My feet don't stay still either as I look from one end of the platform to the other, silently waiting for the next train to come.

I'm a little early tonight. I didn't want to chance missing it, and I certainly didn't want to be held back by any chitter-chatter going on at the office. The last thing I needed was to be slowed down by Alice or Rose wanting some inane detail about something or another. It's happened before. I've since learned to just pack my stuff, turn off my computer, and leave as stealthily as possible.

Which is exactly what I did. I, Isabella Swan, snuck out of my office. By the cover of darkness. Through the back entrance. I may or may not have even taken the stairs to make sure nobody stood in my way.

And now here I am, waiting for the train to come by.

Edward hasn't texted me again since this afternoon and it occurs to me now I may be in over my head. Shit, I may be in over everyone's head, even Edward's. I'm a cute girl. Smart. Talented. I have no doubt he likes me, but maybe I'm reading too much into all of this.

My sudden bouts of insecurity are washed away by the whooshing sound of the oncoming train down the tunnel, along with the telltale screeching noise from the brakes grinding against the steel tracks.

I hop up and down on my heels, my hands wringing in front of me while my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the fast approaching engine. I wait, impatient and anxious, as it slows down and finally comes to a stop, the last car—my favourite one—right in front of me.

Through the glass, I spot Edward right away. His tall frame is easily noticeable as he leans against one of the vertical poles. His face seems to light up as our eyes meet.

I stand somewhat still, trying to wait patiently, while a lady wrangles her two little kids through the door. Then, finally, my feet step over the metal threshold and I am right there standing next to him.

"Hi." My voice barely registers in my own ears as the train starts moving forward, its racket echoing around us.

"Hey," Edward says, leaning into my personal bubble. "You made it."

I nod, grasping the steel bar he's leaning on. Sadly, there are no seats available right now, but this way, with us both standing, we get to actually hold a conversation. "Yeah, I finally did."

"Long day?" he asks, smiling sympathetically.

"Long week, actually, but I'm glad we're here." I don't tell him how giddy I am right now and how fast my heart keeps beating. I don't think I'm good enough of an actress to hide how I'm feeling, anyway.

We quickly discuss where we want to go and he decides he'd like to try the diner near my place. Then, he tells me a little about his week and how the music store is starting to stock up for the holidays already, which leads to conversations about the instruments he plays. I almost feel bad when I have to admit to him how much I suck at playing anything. Hell, I can't even sing in tune.

"Maybe you just never had the right teacher," he tells me as we near my stop.

I'm sad our ride is ending, as it was nice to be so close to him, but excited over this new leap we're about to experience. I've never been anywhere with him except for the back of this train, and every nerve ending in my body is itching to see what he's like on the outside.

…

We end up at the diner, after a short walk from the subway, and take our seats in a cozy, corner booth.

I swear, if I wouldn't have to appear on TV, I'd nominate it for the show _"Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives"_ for the next show they film in Toronto, but there's no way I want to be on television eating and talking about their hot roast beef sandwich and how much I love it. Plus, I think Guy Fieri is a douche canoe. Seriously, with that platinum dye job and all the talking with his mouth full, and don't even get me started on the sunglasses on the back of his head.

This makes me snort out loud, and Edward looks at me, amused. "What's so funny?" he wonders; his eyebrows creased adorably.

I shake my head. "Nothing." His brow arches and we stare each other down until I relent. "Okay, I was just thinking about how if I wasn't opposed to being on television I would write to Triple D."

It's Edward's turn to snort. "Man, I love that show, but that Fieri guy's a real douchebag, eh?"

I laugh, pointing at him and nodding while telling him I had thought the same thing. This sparks an interesting conversation about what shows we like to watch, and which television personalities we like and don't like. I'm pleasantly surprised to discover our tastes are pretty much the same.

We move from subject to subject; reality TV leads us to late night talk shows. Edward's face is flushed from his laughter, and he's running his hands through his hair, chuckling about Jon Stewart and his mocking of Toronto's Mayor, Rob Ford.

"And then … then," he gasps between fits of laughter, "he looks right in the camera and says deadpan, 'You need help, and I don't mean help carrying the two-four to the basement.'"

I choke on the sip of the drink I just took and try not to spit it out all over us. I eventually manage to swallow and I'm grasping my sides because they hurt so much from laughing. I haven't had this much fun in ages.

"You really haven't seen it?" he asks, and I shake my head. "Here." He slides out of his seat, pulls out his iPhone, then slides into the booth right next to me, pressing up real close.

He places his arm around my shoulders and holds his phone up in front of me. I like this feeling; I like how I feel with his arms around me. I've liked it since the first time he did that in the train. I take a chance and snuggle in closer. Inhaling, I catch a whiff of his cologne and have to stop myself from sighing out loud.

He must watch these videos a lot because they're right on his YouTube home page. We watch and giggle as late night hosts rip "Toronto's Crack-Smoking Mayor" to shreds. This is seriously the most I've laughed in a long time and I really love the warm and relaxing feeling. It's as if I've known him my whole life.

I revel in the feel of his body so close to mine. His thigh pressed up against the side of mine and his scent completely enveloping me.

Just as the clip ends I look up to see him smiling down at me. Something in his eyes is different this time, causing the butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

He licks his lip as his eyes search mine and his gaze lowers to my lips as I lick mine. He leans in close; I can feel his breath on my lips, warm and inviting. I really hope he kisses me, but if he doesn't, I'm going in.

Inhaling a sharp breath, I tilt my face up a little more.

I can feel his lips, gently against mine. So, so close, _just a little more_, I think to myself. He must be on the same page I am, because he leans in a little closer and pulls me against him.

Right as I feel his lips press a little harder into mine, a cough startles us and we both pull back.

"Sorry kids," my favourite waitress, Kate, says. "It's time for me to close up now."

Edward hands her some money and stands up. Grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together, he pulls me gently from the booth and helps me with my coat. He then goes back to his side to collect his jacket.

As he leans over to grab it, Kate turns to me and, wiggling her eyebrows, says, "Isabella, où est-ce que tu l'à trouvé celui là? Tu le gardais pour toi la, hein?" She giggles then tilts her head with her eyes still on Edward's ass as he puts on his jacket. "Check lui le cul." _(Isabella, where did you find this one? You were keeping him for yourself, huh? Check out that ass.)_

I snicker as Edward turns around, cheeks aflame, and says to her, "Merci beaucoup. Vous êtes trop gentille." _(Thank you so much, you're too kind.)_

Kate's mouth drops open and she blushes redder than Edward, then mumbles, "Yeah, um … I'll see you around Bella," and hightails it back to the kitchen.

Edward laughs, and I can't help but join in.

We stroll hand in hand back to my apartment, discussing this and that. My stomach's a mess of nerves and I'm starting to wonder if eating such a huge dinner was a good idea. I think I might throw up.

We reach my apartment and I stand, fidgeting, placing my thumb in my mouth and chewing on the skin.

Edward gently removes my hand from my mouth and brings both of my hands in front of me, fingers laced together.

I look up into his light blue eyes and sigh. "Well, this is me." I don't want this night to be over, but I'm not sure how he feels, either.

He smiles down at me, then leans forward ever so slowly. I think to myself, _this is it,_ before I feel his lips gently brush mine.

He's tentative at first, testing the waters, but as I let go of his hands and grip the sides of his coat, pulling him a little closer, he brings his arms around my waist. I feel so safe here in his embrace and relax further into him.

Our mouths part, almost at the same time, and our kiss intensifies as we taste each other, his tongue softly brushing mine. He tastes like sin and the pie we shared for dessert, with a hint of mint thrown in. I groan; pushing myself closer to him as my arms wrap around his neck and my head tilts to grant better access to his mouth that is practically devouring mine. But in a good way. His arms tighten around my waist and we're practically mauling each other on the sidewalk. Oh God, can this man kiss. My knees are getting weak.

I don't know how long we stand there, ensconced in our kissing bubble, when Edward pulls back. We're both panting and grinning. He cups my cheek in his hand and rubs his thumb on my lower lip.

"Did you want to come up?" I ask, breathless. I'm normally not that bold but something about him, about the way he's looking at me, makes me want to do things I normally wouldn't do. Like have wild, crazy sex on a first date.

He smiles at me, probably to soften the blow as he shakes his head. "I'd really love to, Bella. Believe me, I would. But I shouldn't. Not tonight."

I nod, realising I probably wasn't ready for that yet, anyway. Besides, knowing me, I have something embarrassing lying around my apartment, like my period underwear or something. Wrinkle your nose all you want but every woman I know owns a pair or two of those huge granny panties that you only wear while Aunt Flo is making you ride the crimson tide.

"That's probably a good idea to take things slow," I concede. "Good thing one of us is thinking straight."

Edward smiles, leans in and kisses me one last time, before unwrapping his arms from around me and pushing me gently toward my door.

"It's not because I don't want to, trust me," he tells me, not-so-discreetly adjusting himself, as I unlock my door.

I look down at his crotch and then back up at his face. Smirking, I say, "I know."

He watches me as I open the door, and once I'm inside and the door is safely closed behind me, my phone pings.

**Thank you for the best first date I've ever had. x —E**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

My leg bobs up and down as my eyes search the fast-moving walls and scenery outside the window opposite of where I'm sitting. The subway car is quiet this morning. The blinking lights and people meandering outside on the platforms keep my mind mildly occupied, while the hum of energy in my body spikes as my nerves try to overtake me. My heart's beating a hundred and fifty beats per minute and increases in speed with every kilometre this train makes in Edward's direction.

As the voice in the overhead speakers announces the next stop, I practically gnaw my bottom lip off as I nervously fidget with it. My thumbnail is trying to make its way to my mouth, but I sit on my hands to stop myself.

I'm kind of nervous about seeing Edward this morning after our date on Friday. Part of me thinks at some point over the weekend he may have gotten over whatever this is between us, and part of me berates that part for being such a cynical bitch.

I have a good reason for feeling this way, though. He didn't text or call me all weekend and hasn't responded to the text I sent him, so I'm a bundle of nerves this morning.

At seven forty-three the train pulls into his stop, and my heart sinks because he isn't there. It's official, he's avoiding me. I knew he was going to think poorly of me when I invited him in on our first date. What kind of woman does that? I don't want to cry, but I can feel the tears stinging my eyes and the lump forming in my throat.

I quickly pull my hair out of its ponytail, so it can act as a shield between me and the woman beside me, as I try to wipe my eyes. Just as the doors are about to close I hear a bang and my head snaps up to see movement at the door.

Edward is wrenching the door open and climbing in. As soon as he clears the threshold, while people glare in his direction, the door closes and the train leaves the station.

He comes and stands in front of me, gasping for breath. "Fucking … alarm … didn't … go … off," he manages to get out between breaths.

He stands there, hands on his knees, trying to calm his breathing. When he's finally managed to regulate it, he glances at me and starts to smile, but it falters. "Are you crying?" he asks.

I try to shake my head no, but I don't want to lie to him, so I softly nod my head.

He takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. Using his other hand he cups my chin and raises it up to look at him. "Why?"

I sigh. I'm being so over dramatic, and I think I may be PMSing, but I really like him and this pain in my chest really fucking hurts. "When you weren't here this morning, I thought … I thought that, um, maybe I was too forward with you the other night."

He groans and pulls me to my feet, placing my back against the bar in front of him and cages me in with his arms.

"And now you thought I was avoiding you, eh?" he asks, and I can hear the tenderness in his voice.

"Yeah, um, you didn't return my calls or my texts," I whisper. "So, I ... thought maybe you didn't like me or something. And that's okay … if you don't. I mean, I'd understand." Well, not really, but I'd get over it eventually if he didn't. It wouldn't be the first time. There're plenty of fish out there. Or so I'm told.

But, I don't get anything else out of my mouth because his lips are pressed firmly against mine and his tongue is parting my lips. We're full-on making out on the crowded subway, until the lady who usually sits beside me laughs and startles us apart, her knitting needles going a mile a minute.

I blush bright red. So does Edward.

"I owe you an apology," Edward whispers in my ear.

I look at him in confusion. My heart's still in my throat, but my chest feels slightly better.

"I didn't text or call this weekend because I didn't have the damn thing with me." His eyes are on mine, apologetic and pleading.

"Why?" My hand grips the side of his jacket, like holding onto him is going to help my heart calm itself down.

He sighs. "I had to go to Kingston with my dad. Family thing. I forgot it in my apartment." He licks his lips. "Listen Bella, I like you, all right?" He then rolls his eyes. "Although, my mom tried to set me up this weekend."

I'm incensed, and not even realising what's coming out of my mouth, I whisper, "But you're mine." Edward chokes a laugh, I want to curl up and die. "I mean, um, ugh … Can you just, like, shoot me or something? Put me out of my misery?"

He laughs again, kissing me gently, then says, "Yeah, I kind of am yours."

I swear my knees buckle at his statement. The closer we get to my stop the more I want to stay on the train, keep going, get off somewhere else and drag Edward with me.

"Hey, Edward?" I purse my lips and wait for his answer.

He eyes me, a glint in his eye. "Yeah?"

"Wanna play hooky today?" I smile cheekily, adding an eyebrow wiggle to the mix.

His answering grin is the only answer I need.

…

Once we've both handled our work—mine by telling Rosalie, point blank, that I was taking a sick day, and Edward by calling in a favour—we end up downtown surrounded by the hustle and bustle of a very busy Monday morning.

"First stop, Timmie's. I'd mainline that shit if I could," I tell him, spotting the coffee shop a few blocks away, right as we come up from the subway. "There isn't one decent coffee shop around my place and the _M__mmuffins_ near my office building sucks ass." Mmmuffins could never compete with my Timmie's. Ever.

"Go big or go home," he states, pulling me against his side by wrapping an arm around my shoulder and keeping in step beside me. "Lead the way, woman."

_Tim Hortons_ is packed, as per usual, but the wait's so worth it. My mouth waters in anticipation as the smell of fresh brewed coffee fills my lungs. "I almost feel bad for not going to work, but you and this coffee are definitely worth the few hours I'll have to make up for tomorrow," I say when we're waiting in line.

"Damn, I didn't realise you were going to have to work overtime like you did last week," he replies, his tone regretful.

I shake my head. "No, I had a deadline last week, but it's just the regular stuff to do this week. Nothing due until next Tuesday and I'll be able to do it all by then even if I take a sick day today." We move forward a bit and I add, "Besides, my last 'sick day' was spent on the floor next to the toilet. This is way nicer."

His face scrunches up at my mention of being sick, and I can't believe I actually said that out loud. He must feel my embarrassment because he overlooks it and says, "Thank God. I had to ride alone all of last week and that lady with the knitting needles kept eyeing me. She was getting a little too enthusiastic with the knitting there, for a little while."

I love how lighthearted he is. His sense of humour is so in line with mine that I can't help but feel happy around him. "Old Carmen is harmless. I sit next to her all the time. The perverts usually steer clear because of her quick reflexes with the needles."

Edward nods and it's finally our turn to order. We both tell the lady what we want and Edward pays for our drinks. I argue with him for about two seconds and relent easily when he kisses me, playfully telling me to shush. We're quiet as we move to the side, allowing the next person in line to order, while we wait for another lady to make our coffee.

"So, Bella, now that we're free agents in the greater Toronto area, what do you want to do today?" Edward inquires as we take another step to the side. That damn coffee better come soon because the mere thought is making me twitch. I need it in my belly.

We finally get our coffee and I inhale deeply before answering, "I'm game for whatever you want to do." The coffee's hot, but beyond amazing as the first sip hits my tongue. "That's so good." I sigh, glancing up at Edward. His face looks serene as he also sips his hot drink.

We make our way outside and down the street, our coffee in hand as we discuss our options. I really hadn't thought this thing through and it seems as though we're both not that great at actually doing anything with our free time.

A few blocks down the street, Edward tells me there's an interesting thrift store slash pawn shop that he likes to visit. Apparently, they often get awesome instruments and end up selling them dirt cheap.

I remind him I know nothing about any of that, but I'm happy to see more of his world. Once inside the store, I watch Edward and the manager, a smarmy looking older gentleman, barter over a vintage Les Paul guitar. Even I know how much of a cool find this is, and the look on Edward's face as they settle on a price is something I want to see again. Repeatedly.

Edward adjusts a few strings of the cool-looking instrument, then he strums the chords smoothly, his fingers moving seamlessly as a melody fills the small store.

My eyes don't leave his hands as I watch him get lost in playing Guns and Roses' _Patience_. After the second verse, he begins singing the words to go with the song, and my eyes meet his as he tells me all we need is a little patience. I suck in a breath and bite my thumbnail to suppress a sigh. This is so swoon-worthy, and I had no idea any man could ever make me feel this way simply by singing to me.

When he's finished, I blow out a deep breath and smile big, while the owner of the store claps, impressed by the little show Edward has just given us.

Edward gives me a shy smile, handing the guitar back to the shop owner who gets the paperwork done while Edward pays for the instrument.

I'm still dumbstruck by what I've heard. That was amazing and I can't help but wonder exactly how dexterous those fingers would be at playing my body like they did that guitar.

When we're finally outside, he reaches out his hand, which I gladly grasp, and we walk slowly down the busy street.

"So, what's next?" Edward asks. "What's the one thing you haven't done in years?"

Such an open-ended question. I bite my tongue several times, the endless innuendos turning around in my head, as I scan our area, suddenly hit with a flash of inspiration. "This way," I direct, pulling him toward the docks. "We're going to take the ferry to Centre Island." I look up at him, my eyes wide. "Let's go be kids for the day."

…

We stand at the front of the ferry, Edward right behind me, and I have to stop myself from doing something totally mortifying, like putting my arms out to my sides and screaming, _"I'm the queen of the world!"_

The thought makes me giggle and Edward whispers in my ear. "I bet I know why you're laughing, Leonardo."

The fact he just ... gets me, makes me weak in the knees and butterflies erupt in my belly. I turn my face toward his and kiss him softly. He's not at all what I imagined he'd be like when I first saw him all those weeks ago. It turns out, he's a thousand times better.

We wait until the ferry docks and get off with the rest of the passengers. Deciding to check out the trails, we walk on the side to avoid the bicyclists and wander down to the beaches. There, we grab some vendor dogs and eat them while watching the water gently lap at the shore. It's so peaceful here, and after we eat, while we wait for our stomachs to settle before going to Centreville, Edward pulls out his guitar to play for a while.

Centreville is cool, it's like a small amusement park with rides and, though Edward protests, I purchase my own ride-all-day pass. He's spent enough money today; I refuse to let him spend anymore right now.

We find a locker and put away the guitar before entering the park. It's convenient as heck, and since the afternoon is warmer than this morning, we also ditch our jackets inside the locker.

Once inside the park, we ride the rides, though most of them are for kids. I laugh at Edward trying to squish his tall frame into some of the attractions. He looks like the wizard trying to drive a munchkin car in _Oz_.

It's funny how quickly we've grown comfortable around each other. I feel safe in his arms. Whenever he touches me—even the smallest touches, like a hand at my back, or his fingers twined with mine—the heat or zing or whatever it is that bubbles between us is always present. It lingers and makes my skin tingle, covering me like a warm blanket on a cold day. He feels like a long-lost friend I've finally reconnected with after years of wondering where they've been.

Our conversations aren't stilted or one-sided. We're able to kid around together as the whole day goes by way too quickly.

We have a great time at the park, but choose to avoid the water rides since neither of us brought a swimsuit. Our hooky day was last minute, so we obviously didn't plan ahead. Edward waggles his eyebrows at me when he declares that if we want to get wet we can always go to the swimsuit optional beach. I don't tell him that I do not need water to get wet around him. I manage to barely contain myself and wonder if he's doing it on purpose.

When the sun starts to set, we head back to the ferry, stopping at the lockers to get his guitar and our jackets. Neither of us can afford to take another day off this week, and I want to get home in decent time to take a shower before bed.

Like he did on our way here, Edward, once again, wraps his arms around my waist from behind. He nuzzles his face into my neck, and I shiver slightly.

"I had a great time today," he says; his lips grazing my skin. "I haven't been to Centreville since I brought Charlotte a few years ago."

I tense slightly, I don't know who Charlotte is, but it's a little upsetting he brought her up. The thought he's comparing the day he spent with another female to the day he spent with me, makes me uncomfortable enough to keep my mouth from demanding to know who she is and what she was to him.

Understanding everyone has a past, and I may someday mention Mike or Riley or any other bonehead I dated in passing, I choose instead to snuggle myself deeper into his embrace and kiss just below his jaw. This time, Edward shivers and I smile slightly, turning my head back around to watch the approaching docks.

Though it's way out of his way, Edward insists on taking the subway all the way to my stop and taking the bus with me home. Since it's later than normal, both of us are able to get seats and we spend the ride quietly with my legs perched over his. His hand is on my thigh and he's rubbing his thumb against the inside seam of my jeans. Not gonna lie, it's driving me crazy.

I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. "This has been a fabulous day."

He kisses the top of my head and says, "The best."

"C'était une des meilleures journées de ma vie," I tell him, turning my face to kiss the side of his neck. _(This was one of the best days of my life.)_

"La mienne aussi, Isabella." The sound of his voice saying my full name in that odd accent does things to me. I wish I were the kind of girl who could bring him home and have her way with him, but neither of us is ready for that. I get it, now. Thinking back, I'm glad he turned me down last time. I'm starting to understand him more and I think, in the long run, when it does happen, it'll be that much more worth it. _(Mine too, Isabella.)_

We are unbelievably corny and cute and cliché, as we sit huddled together in the train, but I love it. I'm falling hard and fast and there's nothing I can do to stop myself.

Edward gets off with me at my stop and we take the bus to my place. Once outside Edward takes me in his arms and kisses me again. The kiss is no less fabulous than the one shared the night of our first date. His mouth is warm and soft against mine as he kisses me thoroughly.

Unfortunately for me, he pulls away but kisses my lips three more times before whispering, "See you tomorrow."

I run up my front steps and open the door, then turn to watch him walk down the street; his newly purchased guitar slung over his back and his hands buried deep inside his pockets.

What a fabulous day, indeed.

…


	8. Chapter 8

**A huge, HUGE thank you to Mid for her tremendous support throughout this story. She's our rock. Seriously.**

**And thank you, Kni, for not… well, you know…**

**We love every review and every feature and everytime someone recs it, it's all like magic fairy dust is sprinkled on us and makes us all happy… so that y'all for that! :D**

…

**Chapter 8**

The rest of the week is spent in much the same fashion as the previous ones. Edward and I meet in the subway each morning and night. We sit together now and talk as much as we can. We also text each other a few times a day and sometimes even in the evening.

Before we know it, it's Friday and Edward is, again, coming to my neighbourhood. This time, though, I've invited him to my place and have promised to make him dinner. It'll be a late dinner on account of our work day, but whatever time we have together is always good, no matter what we're doing.

I've been thinking about him non-stop since Monday night when he dropped me off after our amazing day together at the park. He's everywhere in every corner of my mind. He's there each night in my dreams, too. I imagine taking off his clothes and finally seeing the ink on full display. In my dream, he's covered in colourful art and lets me lick him all over, tracing each design with my lips and tongue while we love each other. Since these are dreams, they often take place inside the subway car while we're surrounded by onlookers, but I digress. Of course, dreams and reality are two different things, but someday I hope to make some of that happen, just not in the subway.

But for tonight, I'm hoping to get to second base with the man who's been invading my thoughts for the past month and a half. Maybe even third. Patience, I am told, is a great thing, but man, he's driving me crazy with all the amazing kisses and his sweet, no-nonsense persona.

Right now, though, I have to start with getting through this day. It's noon and I'm out to lunch with Alice. I haven't talked to her in what feels like ages, and she's been begging me all week for some girl time. I've concentrated on my work this week and have been playing a well-planned game of catch-up.

"So, Jasper finally asked me to be his girlfriend," she tells me while sipping her drink.

I can't help myself and laugh loudly. "So, let me get this straight, you let the man put his fingers in your vagina in public, and you've been fucking like bunnies for … how long is it now? And _now_ he asks you to be his girlfriend?"

Alice gives me a hurt look, and I feel kind of bad, but not bad enough to take back what I said. She sighs and looks down at her lap. "It wasn't for lack of trying on my part," she whispers. "Jasper is just … I don't know … shy, I guess, when it comes to these things. He's been hurt in the past."

I reach out my hand across the table, feeling terrible. "I'm sorry, Alice. Forgive me; that was rude."

Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, and I start to feel really bad I've made her cry, until I realise the bitch is laughing her ass off.

"Oh, my God, Bella. You should have seen your face!" she exclaims. "That was priceless. So, you _do_ feel empathy."

I swat at her across the table and laugh along with her—it feels great. Once we get ourselves under control, she tells me she lied; that she and Jasper have been exclusively dating since the subway incident, adding, "You would know that if you weren't avoiding me."

I stick my tongue out at her in response. I have been avoiding her because I've been too busy basking in the feelings Edward provokes in me. Thinking of Edward makes me sigh. I really am a lovesick fool.

"So, what's going on with you Bella?" Alice asks.

I grin in response and decide to tell her a bit more about Edward; how we met on the subway and how we've gone on a few dates. When I tell her we haven't done anything more than kiss, she scrunches up her nose and asks, "How is that even possible?"

I look her straight in the face as I tell her I really want this to work. I don't want it to be a one-time thing, or a short fling. Adding, I kind of feel as if I could be in this for the long haul and how, by the way he acts, I think Edward might be, too.

That's until I see Edward walking into the restaurant with a red-haired girl against his side, swinging their laced hands together.

I frown, my eyes narrowing and my mouth hanging open. In slow motion, I watch Edward playfully nudge the girl; his smile so big and cheerful, I know it's real. Sadly, I thought that smile was reserved for me, but it's now obvious I was very wrong.

My gut twists, my throat closing up. I can't speak as my eyes stay glued on the couple.

"Earth to Bella," Alice sing-songs, waving a hand in front of my face.

My eyes meet hers, then go back to watching Edward, who's completely oblivious to the fact I'm even in the same place as him.

"Who's the hunk?" I hear Alice ask, but I don't answer her.

Instead, I feel my fists curl as my anger rises. That asshole lied to me. I swear, this city's going to hell in a handbasket. How dare he? _Grrr._

My feet move on their own accord in his direction, my face warm and eyes stinging. I don't want this. Any of it. Heartbreak sucks. I certainly didn't sign up for it ... and here I was, thinking I was going to fuck him later. Oh, I'll fuck him all right. I will fuck him up. Or maybe just walk past him and ignore him.

Which is what I do.

My eyes meet his as I walk right by him. I hear him call my name, but walk swiftly toward the exit. Alice can get the bill. I am so fucking done with this bullshit.

"Bella? Bella, fuck, Bella. Wait!" His voice gets closer with every word, and I walk faster down the street toward the office without turning around to acknowledge him.

Tears well up behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. No way. No fucking way. I knew he was too good to be true. Ha. Who meets a great, single guy on the subway, anyway? Not me, that's who.

God, this fucking sucks.

"Bella, please, let me explain." His footsteps fall in line with mine, and I know he's close. I can _feel_ him. It's that intense buzz that always lingers between us, and I hate so much right now that it's there. I hate that he's the only man I've ever met to make me feel that zing. I hate that he made me feel like I was his everything, just to rub some other girl in my face.

Stopping abruptly, I turn around and look up at him. "Why?"

"It's not what you think," he pleads, stepping closer.

I laugh humourlessly. "Edward, please. It's fine. You know what—" I swallow and blow out a breath. "We can go back to pleasantly ignoring each other each morning. I was better off."

I'm being dramatic, but whatever. I liked him. Sue me.

He rubs the back of his neck and scratches his stubbled cheek. "I swear, it's not what you think."

"It's fine. Really. Bye Edward." I turn and start walking away, seeing the door to the office building only a few hundred feet away.

"Bella, she's my kid." His voice echoes down the street, and I stop in my tracks.

_How is that even remotely possible?_ She looked like an adult; hell, she looked taller than me.

Edward continues, "I had her when I was fourteen, Bella. She stays in Kingston with her mom for a few weeks during the summer. That's where I was last weekend. We were picking her up. My parents have helped raise her most of her life because her mother and I were too young and stupid to do so, but she's my daughter. I swear."

I turn around, swallowing and taking a deep breath. "Edward, don't." I shake my head, my feet glued to the ground. In the far distance, I see Alice walking toward us, the red-headed girl next to her. The two seem to be amicably talking and laughing.

"She's my kid, Bella. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Women … tend to freak out when I tell them, and I like you so fucking much." He takes a step closer to me and pushes a strand of hair away from my face, then places his hand softly on my cheek. "I went to work this morning, but got a call from the school board. We had to go over there to meet with her English tutor."

I take a deep breath, tension slowly leaving my body. "You have a kid?" _Holy shit!_

"She's almost thirteen. I can't believe you thought she was my girlfriend." He chuckles and pulls me against him, encasing me against his chest with his strong arms.

"She's taller than me," I mumble, my face buried in his chest and my cheeks warming in embarrassment. I am such an asshole. I can't believe how quickly I jumped to the wrong conclusion. "I'm so sorry."

He pulls back from me and takes my face between his palms. "I'm crazy about you, Bella." His eyes soften. "I was going to tell you that day we went to Centreville, but I chickened out. I threw her name out there promising myself I'd tell you if you asked, but you didn't. So, I was going to tell you tonight, and give you a chance to end things if that was a deal breaker for you. I'm sorry, but Charlotte and I are a package deal." He takes a deep breath before continuing, "She lives with my parents, but I've always taken care of her as much as I could. I swear, I wanted you two to meet sometime in the near future, if things worked out, Bella."

I nod, sucking in my bottom lip. "I really fucked this up, huh?" His hold tightens on me, its warmth reassuring.

"Dad, is this Bella?" I hear someone ask from behind Edward.

I move next to Edward, who leaves his arm around my shoulder and squeezes me at his side. "Bella, this is my daughter, Charlotte."

I watch Charlotte's face perk up and I can't believe I missed the resemblance. She's the spitting image of her father, complete with quirky dimple on one cheek and eyelashes that would make any grown woman jealous.

"Hi, Charlotte." I reach out my hand, which she takes and squeezes. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to finally meet you too, Bella. Dad went on and on about you last weekend. Pop thought he was going to have to put a muzzle on him," she jokes. She seems like such a sweet kid, but I'm still a little dumbstruck she's only twelve. I swear, they're boosting our foods way too much these days, sheesh.

Oh, and I'm also a little flustered at the fact Edward has been so open with people about whatever it is we're doing, yet so closed off with me about this huge part of his life.

I see Alice looking at me and tilting her head, so I quickly introduce her to Edward.

"You two just ran off," Alice says, waving her arms around. "So you're Edward, huh?" She looks at him from head to toe, very obviously checking him out, then looks at Charlotte. "I think he's worth it."

I shake my head and point toward the office building, my eyes pleading. "Go tell Rose I'll be a few more minutes."

Once it's only the three of us, Edward confirms he'll be seeing me later. He apologises again for the misunderstanding, then kisses me good and deep right there in front of everyone, including Charlotte, who is thankfully too busy looking at her phone to notice.

…

**So yeah. That happened. Still with us?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

We're sitting across the table from each other, Edward and me. I keep staring at my plate, then looking up at him. I'm not sure how to ask the questions that are plaguing the back of my mind.

We have been awkward and quiet with each other since I got on the subway after work, and I don't like any of this one bit. It isn't us. We're usually fun and open and talkative.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" he asks out of the blue, taking his glass and downing the water inside while scratching the stubble on his chin. His fidgeting is out of character and sets me at ease somehow because at least I know how nervous he also is about all of this.

I sigh, drinking some of my water and slowly setting the glass down. "How'd it happen?" I blurt out the words quickly and relax into my seat. I know how it happened; I mean, two people bump uglies and voilà, they make a baby, but come on, he was just a kid himself.

There's no going around it; I want to know what went down. Gory details and all.

He licks his lips and closes his eyes, opening them to peer into mine. "Dad had just been stationed in Kingston. Maggie lived next door. Her home life sucked and I didn't have any friends, so we sort of bonded. She was my first … everything." He sighs, fidgeting with the black onyx ring around his thumb. "It was our first time and our only time together," he adds, his voice barely audible.

"You were both virgins?"

He nods. "Yeah. Broken condom. We were inexperienced, stupid, and bored."

Stunned for a moment, I sit there and think over his words. His first time having sex got a girl pregnant? Now if that isn't the worst of luck, I don't know what is. "That sucks."

He scoffs, leaning back in his seat. "Her mother threw her out. My parents were in the process of trying to adopt so they offered to raise the baby, since we were obviously too young to do it ourselves."

"So your daughter was raised as your sister?" That has got to be an awkward family reunion.

He shrugs. "Not really. She's always known I'm not her brother. It was hard on everyone, but once Maggie gave birth, her mother took her back in and Dad ended up being transferred to New Brunswick. We kept in contact, but Maggie was never a huge part of Charlotte's life. She calls my mother 'Mom' and my father 'Pop', and usually she calls me 'Dad' or 'Daddy' when she wants something."

"She's a lucky kid," I tell him, taking a deep breath. "And you were afraid I'd run?"

He leans forward, his arm resting on top of the table. "Getting a girl pregnant when you're thirteen sort of fucks you up, Bella. It's not exactly something I'm proud of. I love Charlotte and I've never denied her, but I've met women who ran the other way screaming once they found out about her and my past."

I stare at him, taking in his features. The crease between his eyes and the way his shoulders sag slightly. It's not something I like seeing. Not on him. This isn't the flirty-fun guy I've spent hours getting to know. I know he regrets not telling me. Is it something I'm not willing to forgive? Definitely not.

"I can wrap my head around it, Edward. And I'm not mad at you for not being more forthcoming, not really. I guess I never expected that, is all," I confess.

A twenty-seven-year-old man raising a teenager isn't something you see every day.

"I know, and for what it's worth I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner." He gets up from his seat and comes to stand next to me. Apparently, my gaze always wanders toward the now apparently very fertile wonder-peen.

Closing my eyes, I shake my head and look up at him. The smirk on his face tells me I could never get away with anything with him. "It's no big deal, Edward. Really. Stop apologising."

"You're sure it doesn't matter? Because Charlotte is a big part of my life, Bella. She always will be." He pushes the hair away from my face and places a hand at my neck, drawing a line over my cheek with his thumb. The sensation makes my body break out in goosebumps.

"Mmmhmm." I nod. "You're someone's dad, but you're single. In this day and age, that sums up about a quarter of the men my age. Yours is just … a little older than most."

I thread my fingers through the loops of the suspenders hanging off his waist and stand up, pressing myself close to him. "I thought we'd have better things to do tonight than apologise for things we've done in our pasts. If that's the case, I'm sorry I flunked that math exam in eighth grade."

He laughs, visibly relaxing as I wrap my arms around his neck. "Oh yeah?" His eyebrow raises as his eyes meet mine.

I close the distance between us and kiss his lips softly. "Yeah."

He pulls back and looks away, pinching his eyes closed.

I frown. "What?"

"Bella, I've never been big on having casual sex," he confesses, his face contorting almost painfully. "I mean," he rolls his eyes, "for obvious reasons."

I exhale a shaky breath. "Okay. Just … let me know when you're ready." I kiss him again, getting lost in his lips on mine and his tongue exploring my mouth. I pull back a bit and trace his eyebrows with my thumbs, letting my eyes follow their path as I speak. "For what it's worth, I don't want any of this to be casual."

He tightens his arms around my waist and smiles, flashing that dimple on his left cheek. His eyes blaze blue and ears tinge pink. "Would you … be my girlfriend?"

"Definitely." I nod and take his bottom lip between my teeth, licking at the flesh and sighing as he groans, his fingers digging into my hips. I would love nothing more than for us to get lost in each other, but the day has been heavy on us emotionally and I can understand how hard all of this is for him. No pun intended. "So, um, would you … I mean … I—" I'm stammering. It's frustrating, but I want to ask and I'm so nervous.

Edward chuckles. "Just spit it out, Bella."

I sigh. "Do you, um, think that Charlotte might want to come out with us or something tomorrow?"

Edward's grin lights up his whole face; dimple flashing at me as he nods. "I think she'd love that. I'd love that." I love that dimple.

He grips my face in his hands and kisses me. The kiss is almost bruising in its intensity, but I love every minute of it. Parting my lips and sucking his tongue in my mouth, he grunts low and sexy as I pull myself closer to him. He grips my waist tightly and I can feel him hard against me. God, I want him bad, but I'm willing to take it at his pace.

His hand comes up and brushes my boob, thumb rubbing on the nipple and I gasp at the sensation. He flicks his thumb back and forth, sending a signal straight down to my pussy, and I'm itching to hitch my leg over his hip and rub myself against him.

He then backs me up toward the door and the next thing I know, I'm pressed up against the wall beside it. Edward grabs my leg and hitches it up over his hip, grinding against me and hitting a spot that makes me cry out in pleasure. Every coherent thought leaves my head and I now react on pure instinct, letting him lead us wherever he wants to go.

Kissing my neck and sucking on the skin, I swear he's going to leave a mark, but I let him because I don't care. It feels too fucking good to stop. I roll my hips against him again, and he grunts and pushes against me harder.

"I think … I think it's time for me to go," he says between soft sucking kisses to my neck.

He's still grinding his dick against me and flicking my nipple with his thumb. I want to cry and beg him not to stop. But he's right, he should go, before we both lose control and do something we still don't seem ready for. I respect us too much, and want us to work out too badly to risk it.

I bring my leg down, putting my foot back on the ground, and pout a little, making him laugh and kiss me softly. He tells me he'll call me tomorrow to figure out what we're going to do, and with one last peck to my lips, he whispers, "Goodbye," and softly closes the door behind him.

I sink down the wall onto the floor, breathless and smiling.

…

"His name is Edward and I think I'm falling for him," I tell my sister while washing dishes; the phone held tight between my shoulder and ear.

She laughs, and I can practically hear her eyes rolling as she answers, _"And he's the hot-crotch guy from the train?"_

"Aw, man, don't remind me." I sigh and dry my hands. "He understands French, you know." I cringe thinking back to the way that had all came out, but hearing his deep voice twisting those words in that distinctive way made my stomach do some sort of flip floppy thing while my nether regions clenched.

Angela's loud guffaw makes me tear the phone away from my ear, also breaking me out of wherever my thoughts had drifted off to. _"Oh, man, you can't catch a break, sis." _

"Dude, he understood every word and then replied in French. Thousands of people in this city, and this random guy just happens to speak French." I throw myself on the couch and grab the remote. It's early and I'm sure there's not much on, but given my week, I'm giving myself the morning off before gallivanting away the rest of the afternoon with Edward and Charlotte. My down time has been a little limited since I've met him and I almost miss having more me time. That being said, I wouldn't trade the time I spend with Edward for anything else. I really like the guy. A lot.

"_Oh, Bella__,__"_ Angela says. _"You reali__s__e you're in Canada, right?"_

"Yeah, yeah," I huff. "I mean, I'm just not used to that. If I try to speak French to Alice or Rose, they both look at me like I have two heads. I really wasn't thinking." I shrug, picking lint off the sofa cushion.

"_You just need to learn to keep the sex talk to yourself, dear sister." _She giggles. _"So why did you say it was going to be more complicated than you thought? I mean, he sounds like a nice guy. Cute, obviously, but genuinely nice. And he speaks French. That's hot."_

I chew my bottom lip, contemplating my next words. I've spoken to Angela a few times since that fateful morning on the subway, but I hadn't mentioned him again until now. She's always been a good sounding board. I know whatever I tell her, she'll do her best to look at it from all sides before randomly giving me her opinion.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch before saying, "He has a kid, Ang. It's not a big deal, or at least I don't think it is, but he does. He's been hurt before. I can tell someone screwed him up bad, but I want him to be able to trust me, you know?"

After a few seconds of silence she answers with a serious voice. _"Oh, sis. It's tough, but in this day and age this stuff happens. Relationships fail and we do our best to move forward. If he's the right guy for you, just be there for him when he__'__s ready to talk. Listen and try not to judge."_

Her sage advice makes sense and I take a deep breath, then tell her that Charlotte is actually almost thirteen. I explain how Edward has worked hard to provide for her even if he was a kid himself when he had her.

She reminds me that we are all young once and that we all screw up. It's only human to makes mistakes, but it's how we learn to live with them that's important. Ang seems so unaffected by all this new information that I'm finally able to take a deep breath. I remind myself that Edward has had a lot to deal with, but seems to be all the better for it. He's mature, hardworking, kind-hearted and, I've decided, is definitely worth the risk. It's probably too late to try not to fall for him anyway.

Feeling completely refreshed and with a renewed hope that maybe Edward and I can work out in the long run, I hang up the phone after telling my sister how much I love her.

…

**Thanks for sticking with us. **

**Mid… thanks for believing this wasn't an anvil. Or a shark…**

**Kni… well, you know what's what...**

**I'd have some colorful words for the crap we got for this story, but why bother?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Early update since this week is going to be hell for both of us. xox**

**...**

**Chapter 10**

Every year our company give us each two tickets to a Blue Jays' game. As it turns out, it isn't too hard to convince Alice to give me one of hers, as she and Jasper are going out of town. I figure I'll surprise Edward and Charlotte with them.

We've decided to meet up at noon and go from there. The game starts at three, so that gives us three hours to wander around, grab lunch, and go to the game. Or we can grab something to snack on and grab food at the stadium.

We meet up at Edward's normal stop. I grin widely when Charlotte comes right up to me and sits beside me, squealing, "Thanks for inviting me today, Bella!"

I smile back at her and I'm slightly shocked when she leans over and hugs me. Edward stands in his usual spot, arms on the bar above his head, tattoo visible. I still haven't figured out what it is.

"So what are we doing?" Charlotte asks Edward.

"I hadn't really thought of that yet," he replies.

I cough and produce the three tickets from my purse, fanning them out in front of me. Charlotte claps her hands and bounces a little in her seat, while Edward quirks his brow. He takes one of the tickets and, looking at the seats, lets out a puff of breath. "Bella, you shouldn't have paid this much, we could have done anything."

I laugh and tell him I didn't pay anything; explaining that as a perk for all our hard work our boss treats his employees to two of his eight season tickets once per year. Edward gets excited as he tells me they're probably the best seats in the house. I just shrug, baseball isn't really my thing, but while we were talking last night, Edward told me he and Charlotte have watched it together since she was a baby. I normally give my tickets away each year to friends of co-workers. I'm really glad I kept them this year.

I explain we won't know who else from my company is going to be there. I'm crossing my fingers it's not Rosalie's dad, or worse … Emmett. Don't get me wrong, I think Emmett's great for Rosalie, but for such a delicate flower you'd think she'd have chosen someone a little less … Neanderthal-ish. The man farts in public, for fuck's sake.

We decide to wander around downtown and window shop until it's time to go to the game. Charlotte and Edward fill me in on what it was like for them in the different places they've lived. Smaller town people were more condescending of Edward being her father than the bigger cities.

"Oh, my God, Dad, do you remember when Pop was stationed in Borden and we lived in that little town that had the high school and public school was right beside it?"

Edward snorts out a laugh. "Yeah, and you fell on the playground and broke your arm?"

I wince, remembering what that feels like myself.

"Get this, Bella." Charlotte trills a laugh. "So, they call the ambulance, and I'm crying because my arm hurts and I just want my dad. How old was I then Dad, like four?"

Edward nods. "Yeah, I was just shy of eighteen and attending the high school. We were outside for auto shop when the ambulance pulled up. The minute I saw it I just had this sinking feeling in my gut—my mom calls it parent's intuition—so I start walking toward the ambulance. My teacher's yelling at me, but I'm not paying any attention."

Charlotte butts in, "So, I can see him coming closer and I'm screaming 'Daddy, Daddy,' at the top of my lungs, and they wouldn't let him anywhere near me."

Edward practically growls. "Her teacher turns to me, nose scrunched up with disgust, and says to me, 'Listen brother, why don't you be a good little boy and call your mommy and daddy, m'kay?' I wanted to flip her off so bad but Charlotte needed me. So I run to the school office, call my mom and tell her what's going on. Oh boy; was she ever mad! She told me to tell the teacher to let me ride in the ambulance to the hospital and that she'd meet us there."

Charlotte giggles again. "I could hear Mom screaming at my teacher in the hall at the hospital, telling her off for not letting my dad near me and being so rude to him; calling him a little boy. Gave her hell; didn't she Dad?"

"Language Char," he scolds her, before laughing again. "Yeah, the parent/teacher interview was a little awkward after that one. Mom was still pissed. Dad just sat there, arms folded, and refused to speak to her. It was obvious the teacher didn't want to talk to me, either, because she saw me as nothing but a little kid." He sighs. "It kind of hit me harder then; how much different I was from other kids my age. I kind of went off the rails a little after that."

Edward looks a little sad, and I want to reach out and touch him. But Charlotte beats me to it, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug. "You never let me see it though, Daddy. You were still a great dad, and always there for me."

Edward leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her head, and I can see the glassiness in his eyes. I reach out my hand to grab his and give it a squeeze. He smiles back at me, and all feels right again.

…

In the middle of the second inning our date turns into a disaster. I can smell him before I see him and groan loudly when I hear a booming "Hells Bells!" rings out. I hide my face in my hands. No, no, no this can't be happening; why wouldn't she have warned me about this?

I look up as the barbarian places his hand on my arm. "Quil," I snap. "What are you doing here?"

"Alice gave me the ticket weeks ago; she said you probably wouldn't be here, though. I'm glad to see you've finally agreed to come on a date with me." He wiggles his eyebrows, and I throw up in my mouth a little. Well, a lot, actually.

I can feel Edward tense beside me and take his hand.

"I would never have come here if I knew you were coming today!" I hiss between clenched teeth, giving Quil the evil eye.

The smug bastard sits down beside me and throws his arm over my shoulder, squeezing it lightly. He leans over me toward Edward, reaching out his other hand. "I'm Quil; do you work with Bella?"

Edward takes Quil's hand, and I can literally see the bones crunching together. Quil winces as Edward says, "Edward, Bella's _boyfriend_."

Quil looks at me, grins, before removing his arm. Then he says the stupidest thing I think he can come up with, "Oh, so she's taken now? That's okay." Looking past Edward he continues with his idiocy, "Your sister's fucking hot. Switch seats with me, man."

_Oh shit__!_ Edward looks murderous at this point. So much so, I have to practically sit on him to keep him in his seat. Before Edward can even say something, Charlotte snorts in derision. "I'm twelve, you pervert, and that's my dad."

Quil has the decency to blush a little, but it only serves to turn his attention back to me. I'm going to kill Alice for not warning me about him coming. She's going to owe me big.

...

The bat cracks against the ball and it's a homerun. Players run across the field and another one slides on the home plate, as the crowd goes wild. The Jays have won again and we're engulfed by the cheers from the fans all around us.

Edward's smiling and hugging Charlotte, the two talking animatedly about the last few seconds of the game. I've done my best to follow it, but truthfully, I'm pretty much lost on what exactly went on, except for the fact the Jays have won.

Quil's eyeing me and trying to educate me on the merits of the game. The bastard won't give up already in spite of my being here with a date. He's driven both Edward and I crazy, flirting constantly, even Edward taking him to the bathroom "for a talk" hasn't changed his attitude. I think it's the drugs. Or maybe he's just that stupid. I'm betting on stupid.

Finally, Quil decides to leave and I couldn't be happier. I was worried he was going to try and stick with us.

When he stands from his seat, he grabs me and kisses me on the lips, and I kick him in the shin for good measure. "I had a lovely time on our date, Bella," he says, winking. "Nice meeting you, Egbert. Charlotte call me in four years, sweetie."

Edward lunges at him, and Quil giggles as he runs up the stairs. I slump back down in my chair, burying my face in my hands.

"I am so sorry, Edward," I mumble.

He grasps my hands and gently pulls them away from my face.

"How do you even know that guy, Bella?" he wonders. "He's like a walking, talking PSA for 'this is your brain on drugs'."

I snort a laugh and explain how he's Jasper's friend, and he's always trying to get in my pants. Then I realise what I said in front of Charlotte and blush beet red. Censoring what comes out of my mouth is going to have to be a priority when she's around.

Edward laughs at my slip, puts his arms around us both, and we walk up the stairs discussing where to go for dinner.

...

There's an amazing pizza joint downtown near the stadium. Thankfully, it doesn't take much arm twisting to get Edward and Charlotte onboard with having dinner there. I don't make it to this part of town often, but when I do, I like treating myself to Tony's Pizza. The man can make a mean pie.

We order our pizza and Charlotte waits patiently in her chair, playing a game on her phone, while Edward plays footsies with me under the table, his eyes dancing with mischief every time our eyes meet. I don't dare say anything about his foot playfully nudging mine, but we do progress to hand-holding over the table.

His fingers are calloused; no doubt from playing the guitar, as he softly rubs my hand. There's a large part of me, inevitably the very pervy part, which wishes he was rubbing me somewhere else.

I snap myself out of those thoughts when Charlotte suddenly looks up from her phone, her eyes zoning in on something behind me. When I turn, I see a young man, probably about her age, looking over at us.

Edward groans and rolls his eyes from his spot next to me, and I giggle at his reaction. Charlotte's a pretty girl, and apparently boys are taking notice.

"Anyone you know?" I ask, side-eyeing Edward, who's positively fuming. If he were a cartoon, he'd have steam coming out of his ears.

A soft blush covers Charlotte's cheeks as she nods. "He goes to my school."

"Christ," Edward swears under his breath and brings a hand through his hair, fingering a few strands. "Char, you know the rules."

In typical teenager style, Charlotte rolls her eyes and looks down at her lap. "I'm not you, Dad." Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the message is clear. She's old enough to have done the math and understands the ramifications of her father's actions. She's a smart girl, and I have to give Edward credit for being as open and honest as he's always been with his daughter.

Feeling like I'm intruding on some father-daughter talk about to go down, I excuse myself to the ladies' room, giving them a little privacy.

After doing my business and washing my hands twice, just to buy some time, I check with Tony to see where he's at with our pizza. He smiles and with an unmistakable Italian accent, tells me it'll be another five minutes. The pizza here is always made fresh, but takes longer than Domino's.

"Five more minutes," I say as I take a seat, noticing how Charlotte's back to being playful and Edward looks more relaxed, leaning back against his chair.

…

After a delicious and fun dinner, we take the subway back to Edward's normal stop and get off to collect Charlotte's things. She's spending the night with her friend Heidi, so we're meeting Heidi and her mother at Yorkdale Mall. To say I'm a little nervous about going to Edward's parents' house would be an understatement. But Edward assures me they aren't home tonight, and even if they were they'd love me. I'm not convinced.

Charlotte's bouncing along down the road, and we stop in front of a beautiful two-story house. Edward's dad, after retiring from the Military, started his own security firm and they're doing rather well for themselves.

Edward points out the garage in the back, where he has his own apartment. It keeps his rent low, and gives him some space of his own. When Charlotte was younger he used to live right in the house with them, but now she's older and doesn't need as much care, his mother convinced him that a little space of his own wouldn't be a bad thing. I think it's wonderful how his parents have supported him. It makes me love them a little, even though I've never met them.

Charlotte shows me her room, and it's cute … I guess … if you're into Pepto-Bismol pink. She has pictures of Edward and herself through the years. Though I'd never say it out loud, for a while he really did look like just her brother; the age gap not typical of a father and daughter. The first picture of him awkwardly holding her as a newborn breaks my heart a little bit—his facial expression, equal parts scared and horrified. He looks broken and lost and in way over his head, as any kid would be in that same situation.

There's only one picture of Maggie. In it Charlotte looks to be about eight and the girl, while beautiful, stands at least a foot away from her daughter. Charlotte notices me looking and tells me, "That's Maggie, she's my birth mom, but I only call her Maggie," with a shrug of her shoulders. It pains me this girl's mother doesn't seem to have much to do with her life. I couldn't imagine having a child then practically ignoring it, regardless of the circumstances. But then again I've never been a teenage mother, so who am I to judge?

Charlotte doesn't seem to be damaged by the fact her birth mother isn't around much. She has a loving father and two very generous grandparents, so she's not hurting in the family department. Together they've raised a girl with a good head on her shoulders.

Once her stuff's collected, we quickly head back to the subway station and get on the train to Yorkdale. From there we will find Heidi and her mother, then take the bus to my place for a little one-on-one date time. While I've enjoyed the time I got to spend with both Charlotte and Edward, I'm thankful we'll be getting some alone time as well. Maybe tonight we'll be able to take things a step further. Or not. Probably not. I need to remind myself to take things easy. Edward has to be the instigator in this, which is something I'm not entirely used to. After all, I was the one ready to haul him up to my place on our first date.

Charlotte texts her friend to find out where they are, and we find them easily outside the _Roots _store. Heidi's bouncing excitedly as she spots Charlotte walking toward her. Her mother, on the other hand, is looking … well, downright bitchy if you ask me. And since I'm kind of a bitch myself, I'm a bit of an expert—you know, it takes one to know one.

She looks at Edward as if she's stepped in dog poop. The first words out of her mouth are not a pleasant hello, to the parent of the girl she's taking for the night, but rather, "Charlotte, you're looking thinner than last time I saw you. Come, we'll go get some dinner. It's past seven o'clock, after all." She then levels Edward with this _look_ I'd like to slap right off her pinched-up face.

I tense, ready to pounce on her ass. I guess Edward can sense it as he quickly grabs my hand, squeezes it, and gives me slight shake of his head.

"Actually, Mrs. Hunter, Daddy and Bella took me to eat after the baseball game, but thank you for offering." Charlotte's the picture of a happy-go-lucky, unfazed teenager as she gives the woman, what I know to be, a condescending, fake smile. I think I love that kid.

"Well," the bitch huffs, "too much takeout isn't good for you, dear. Tomorrow morning I'll make you a nice, hearty, homemade breakfast." She levels Edward another glare before saying, "She'll call you when she's ready to come home tomorrow. Are you going to be available? Or will you be too busy with your friend?"

The fact she uses air quotes around the word friend as she gives me with the same look she's been giving Edward, makes me lunge forward a little bit. Edward wraps his arm around my waist, gently restraining me and ignoring her attitude, while I'm sure I'm baring teeth and foaming at the mouth, resembling something along the lines of _Cujo_. I want to fuck this lady's shit up and bad.

By the clench of his jaw, Edward just barely replies, "I'll be there when she's ready." He turns to Charlotte and says, "Text me a bit before you want picking up, okay Char?"

She grins at him and nods her head, before coming over and kissing him on the cheek. To my surprise she, again, hugs me tightly and says, "Thanks again for letting me come out with you and Dad today, Bella. It was great getting to know you better. I hope we can do it again sometime soon."

"For sure," I tell her. "And maybe one day we can ditch your dad even, go out, just us girls." And I mean every word. She's a great kid and the age difference—the fact she's older than your typical toddler—makes hanging out very easy and something to look forward to, even for a cave dweller such as myself.

She squeals at this, smiling her daddy's smile, then hurries back to Heidi and her bitchy mother.

We watch them walk away, and I can literally hear Edward's teeth grinding together. I don't blame him, but the girls look like they get along well together in spite of the mother's obvious distaste for Charlotte's upbringing.

I grab his hand and tug him slightly toward the exit. "Come on, let's go to my place."

…

**Huge thank yous go out to our usual ladies: Mid and Kni… and of course you, faithful readers. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

By the time we get back to my place, it's evident Edward's still upset. I can't imagine what that must be like for him. I mean, he's her dad, but he's so much younger than her friends' parents. It's obvious some, if not all, treat him that way. Constantly sticking their noses in about what she wears, or how well she's being taken care of. Never mind the fact he has an excellent support system in his own parents.

When we get inside, I quietly lead him to the couch and go to the fridge in search of something to take the edge off.

I don't have much alcohol, but I do have a couple of beers, so I grab one for Edward and one for myself, pop the caps, and walk back to him, wordlessly handing him the bottle. He's been very quiet since we left the mall, and I don't like watching him go through whatever he's going through on his own. I want him to be able to trust me and talk to me about these things. I guess there's no time like the present.

He takes it and drinks deeply, before setting the bottle down on the table and sighing.

"Thanks," he says, running his hands up the back of my legs and pulling me to stand in front of him. I reach over beside him and put my beer on the side table, then wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. He nuzzles his face against my stomach, arms coming up to entwine around my waist. I run my fingers through his hair, in what I hope is a gesture that soothes him. His body relaxes slightly.

"That was …" I start.

"Awful," he finishes my sentence with a snort. "It's okay, Bella. I'm used to it."

"It's not okay, Edward." I huff in frustration. "She was such a … a … bitch!"

He laughs at that, but it's not a humourous one.

"If it isn't the teachers looking down on me, it's the other parents, or often, even people my age. You don't know what it's like, Bella. My life, it's just been so … hard. One mistake, one tiny fucking mistake I made as a kid, and they look at me like I'm some kind of failure. I mean, does she look malnourished? Is she dressed inappropriately? If they don't think I'm unable to support her financially and feed her properly they worry about their daughters hanging around with someone whose morals are 'loose' and they worry that Char will 'corrupt' their kids. You don't know how many times I've heard the other parents talk about 'Charlotte's dad' and how 'she'll be a teen parent just like he was.'" He breathes deep; his whole body trembling.

There's nothing sexual in my mind when I straddle his lap and tug his face into my neck. He needs to be held. He can't keep this in. I wonder how long it's been since he's been able to let it all out.

"You're right; I don't know what it's like," I whisper, still stroking his hair. I'm reminded of my conversation with Angela and want to be the one to hear what he has to say. "But I'm willing to listen."

He's quiet for a few minutes; I'm not sure if it's because he doesn't want to open the dam or he's wondering where to start. Just as I'm about to tell him it's okay, he doesn't have to talk about it, he begins, "I remember a teacher calling me out in front of the entire class about my responsibilities toward Charlotte." He picks up a piece of my hair and starts twisting it around his finger. "Said I shouldn't be leaving class and that my mom should be taking care of her, seeing as I was only a kid myself." His eyes meet mine and they're so sad. "I snapped and told him she was my daughter and to go fuck himself with his lecture, that I _was_ taking care of my responsibility."

"What did the teacher say?" I ask, proud of him for standing up for himself, but unable to put myself in that situation. I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like for him.

"He sent me to the office. I got detention." He shrugs. "Funny thing is, after that some girls wanted to date me and guys wanted to hang out; thinking I could be smooth with girls and introduce them." He snorts. "But I wasn't into any of it, and they sort of turned on me once they realised I wasn't the player they thought I was just because I had a kid."

I snort a humourless laugh. "Because having a kid meant you were sleeping around?" My tone's sarcastic, and I try to put myself in the mind of a teenager. Thing is, I can't.

"Put it this way: I spent the better part of twelfth grade in the principal's office. High school was already hell for me because of the moving around. Add the drama of having to explain to people that I had a preschool kid." He shakes his head. "I was stressed out every day and had nothing left to give once I got home to take care of Char."

"But she turned out great, Edward. I'm sure you weren't that bad." I run my thumb over the stubble on his cheek, my eyes wandering over the dips and valleys of his jaw.

"One day I snapped at her, Bella." He looks away. "It was bad. Mom told me to take a break. Get out. And I did."

I gasp and he nods his head sadly. I hug him to me and let him take a few minutes. He clears his throat.

"The look on her sweet, little face," he shakes his head, his eyes brimming with tears, "it _killed_ me. I'll never forget it as long as I live."

He then tells me about what happened next. About wandering around town and how he'd met some guys who were up to no good.

"After that, things went downhill fast," he explains. "I started hanging out with them after work, instead of going straight home. I somehow convinced my parents to let me drop out of school and take correspondence classes, rather than have to attend the local high school and be treated that way. I … I even started drinking and doing drugs."

I pull away, surprised at his admission. "And your parents didn't say anything?" I'm not sure my parents would be so forgiving in this situation.

He laughs humourlessly, his deep voice reverberating around my small space. "My parents didn't know where my money was suddenly disappearing to, but they were always there to pick up the slack. They did everything they could to keep things as normal as possible for Charlotte's sake. When Dad was stationed overseas for six months, and Mom couldn't keep up with me, I was able to get away with a lot more than I should have."

I stroke the little hairs on the back of his neck and distractedly let my eyes wander over every little freckle and scar on his face. He's so beautiful; it kills me to think he had to go through that at such a young age.

"I was still a dad, you know, but I wasn't great at it. Not like before. Mom noticed. She tried to talk to me, but I didn't want to hear it." He blows out a breath and pinches his eyebrows, his hands wandering over my back, fingers skimming the skin at my waist. "I couldn't handle being such a fuck up. I ran from my problems but realised how wrong I was. I was a good dad, Bella." His eyes are pleading, and I can see the lost little boy from that picture in Charlotte's room.

"And you have a good kid. Charlotte seems like she has a great head on her shoulders," I compliment, meaning every word.

"This one time, when I was around nineteen, I was alone with Char at home. I remember making dinner for Charlotte and playing with her before putting her to bed. Once I thought she was asleep, I fixed myself a drink. I was so tired that day, because Char had been out of school and I'd been running after her all day, that I passed out on the couch." He sighs and closes his eyes, rubbing them as he continues, "About half an hour later I heard a crash from upstairs and Charlotte screaming. I took the stairs two at a time and found her in my room, sitting on the floor, holding a picture of the two of us; she was covered in blood and glass. I flipped out and grabbed her, put her in her booster seat and started to drive down the road. She was screaming, and I honestly should have called an ambulance, but the hospital wasn't far." He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "I was distracted though, trying to calm her down, trying to drive, and swerved into the other lane. When I realised this, I overcorrected and ran the car off the road into a tree. I hit my head on the steering wheel and blacked out."

My heart breaks for him as he tells me all of this in one big, shuddering breath. It's obvious he still feels so much guilt over all these life-altering events that have surrounded him for so many years.

I kiss his cheek, then cradle his face in my hands and look right into his eyes. "But you're both okay, right? I mean, it was one drink. That's not what caused the accident, right?"

"You're right," he says. "And that's what saved my ass. When I came to on the stretcher, I started freaking about Charlotte. The paramedic kept telling me my sister was okay and I told him she wasn't my sister she was my daughter and she needed more help than I did. His partner brought her over to me to show me she was okay. She'd cut her hand on a piece of glass and managed to spread what little blood had flowed all over herself. She only needed two stitches in the end. I, on the other hand, had a concussion and bruised ribs. The hospital got a hold of my parents and they came home. It was one of the worst nights of my life, Bella. Especially when my dad asked Charlotte what she was doing in my room and she said, 'Tryin' to find Daddy.' Then she looked at me with her big, blue eyes and said, 'Where was you, Daddy? I couldn't find you.'"

He tells me how he broke down after that; admitted to his parents about the bottle of booze and how he'd had a drink and could have killed them both. His dad put in for a transfer the next day; they packed the both of them up and moved back to the base in New Brunswick until Edward was feeling a bit more stable. They got him some counselling to talk about his issues, and put him in a teen parent support group, so he wouldn't feel alone.

"That's when I got this," he says, lifting the arm of his shirt.

The tattoo that first caught my eye is beautiful, just like Edward. It's a detailed depiction of flames licking up his forearm, surrounding a baby phoenix rising up from a pile of ashes. The colours are vibrant and every line is intricately detailed, covering every inch of skin from his wrist all the way to his well-toned upper arm.

"It's to signify my rebirth," he explains. "I changed drastically after that incident. I rarely drank, got my GED, got a new job, and really made an effort to be the father Charlotte needed me to be. The father she deserved."

"You are, Edward. You are," I reassure him, nodding for emphasis, letting my fingers trail up his arm, following the angry red ink that defines such a sad part of his life. "Do you have any other tattoos?" I know he does as there's this sliver of black that peeks from his shirt collar that has been mocking me in every way since the day I laid my eyes on him.

He looks at my face, searching for something before reaching behind his back and bringing his shirt over his head.

My jaw goes slack as my eyes travel over his toned chest, taking in every inch of exposed skin. I get the overwhelming urge to lick every inch of him, from the black swirls forming Charlotte's name that carefully reside over his left pec, to the intricate, Celtic design that starts at the side of his neck and seems to spread over his shoulder and down his back.

He has always been beautiful to me with his deep, soulful eyes, that sharp jaw and those soft lips, but seeing him like this—so vulnerable—makes him the most attractive man I've ever had the opportunity to be with.

He says nothing as I get lost in looking at him, absorbing every amazing image before me. I'm still straddling his thighs, but sitting back on his knees. He's so much taller than me that I get to lean back and take him all in before meeting his eyes. "You're beautiful, Edward. Inside and out."

He frowns, looking away. "Some of this was done before I was completely okay with things the way they are," he explains.

"But they're part of you." I lick my lips and reach behind me to pull off my own shirt, leaving me in a simple white cotton bra. "We all have our scars." I feel his eyes on me—on the ink I proudly wear on my own skin. Every design tells a tale. Some of it represents happier memories; others represent loss or a moment in my life that I wanted to commemorate in my own way. "I won't judge you by your past, Edward. It's made you who you are today, and I like what I see."

"Bella, I … you …" He takes a deep breath and pulls me into a bone crushing hug, bringing my chest flush with his. "You're everything." His voice is soft, breath fanning below my ear. "Thank you."

My arms go around his neck and I hold him tight. Every inch of my skin that's touching his burns with the desire I have for him. I know tonight's not the night for that, as our emotions weigh heavily in the air, but my treacherous body wants what it wants. My mind battles between wanting to be completely naked with Edward and finally knowing what he feels like moving inside me, and needing to be here in the present with him.

His hands start moving up and down my back, sending a shiver down my spine, and I squirm on his lap, my breathing keyed up as I feel him twitch between my legs. We shouldn't be like this. Not right now.

I pull back to look at him, and what I see in his eyes melts away everything else around us until all that's left is our need for each other. He grabs the back of my neck and brings my face to his in a heated kiss. My mouth opens to him instantly, like I want him inside me wherever that may be. I'm grinding over him, letting my body take over. My hips shift and I find a rhythm that makes it so I'm rubbing myself over his erection, the seam of my jeans adding pressure in just the right spot.

His hands go from my back to my ribcage, his thumbs grazing the undersides of my bra, until he shifts, a groan falling from his lips as he pulls down my bra cups, exposing my tits.

He leans back, his hips moving in time with mine as he watches my breasts move, his hands covering them, squeezing them slightly, and driving me insane. I can feel my orgasm building, our noises muffled with kisses. I'm climbing higher and higher, every limb ready to fall over the edge any minute now.

"Christ, Bella," Edward grunts, pulling my hips tight against his, his face in my neck as our grinding becomes erratic.

He kisses my neck, sucking on the skin, then kisses down to my right breast, taking my nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue over the tight bud.

I'm breathless and panting as he laps at one nipple then the other. It's been a long time since I've had anyone pay me this kind of attention, and before I know it, my orgasm crashes over me, waves and waves of pleasure racking my entire body in spasms as I call out to God, thanking him and all his Disciples.

Edward's hands grip my backside as he grinds into me one last time with a grunt, his face buried in my neck, his forehead slick with sweat.

"We … I …." He inhales and kisses the spot under my ear. "That was …"

I smile and kiss his forehead. "It was perfect."

…

**Mid beta'd; Kni pre-read; you all stuck with it. Thank you for everything.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Once the cat's been let out of the bag, there's no going back. Everything Edward has revealed about himself has solidified what I already felt for him tenfold.

That first night after his confession, he'd lain in bed with me and had held me in his arms while he'd told me cute stories about Charlotte's childhood. How it wasn't always bad for him, something for which I'm grateful. He's such a wonderful, sensitive soul and deserves nothing but the best. It truly sucks that so many people tend to judge him by his past and not by the actions he makes in the present.

It's been a few weeks since we spent that afternoon at the ballpark and the evening together.

It's now Friday and we've stolen a few hours alone at my place.

"What does this one mean?" he asks, tracing his thumb over the intricate sparrow that rests below my right breast.

I smile remembering why I got it. "This one is a good one." I let my fingers tangle with his over the artwork. "When I was little, my dad called me his 'petit oiseau'. Ironically, he doesn't even know I have it."

"And the others?" He kisses the small flower behind my ear.

"Angela dared me." I giggle and shake my head. "She has one, too. Same spot." I put my hand over his chest where Charlotte's name is written in dark cursive letters. "The good outweighs the bad, Edward."

I understand a lot of the art colouring his skin is there because of the dark places his mind had been in during those times. I also see some light in the artwork. Like mine, some of his pieces simply remind him of the good things. As sparse as they may have been at one time in his life, they are a reminder that good things exist.

He kisses my lips, letting them linger there for a moment before pulling back and resting his head in the valley between my breasts. "I'm starting to finally see that."

…

Saturday comes with all the stress associated with it. Tonight, Edward's invited me over to dinner to meet his parents for the first time. I'm a little nervous, but Charlotte will be there and rumour is, she's been putting nothing but good words in for me.

Edward had wanted to come and pick me up at my place, but I told him not to be silly; that I remembered where he lived and could get there easily by myself. Besides, I want to be able to freak out in peace, and I know just the person who can calm my nerves.

I dial the number as I'm getting dressed and allow the phone to ring and ring before her answering machine picks up.

"Damn it, Angela! Answer your phone. I'm having a crisis. I'm meeting the parents. Where are you when I need you? You are a horrible sister." I hang up in a huff, only to call right back. "I take that back, you're the best sister and I love you. I hope you and Ben are boning and if you are I hope you don't tell me the details. Love you."

I'm finished getting dressed and I'm pacing. I should be leaving, but I still need my pep talk. Angela hasn't called back yet and I'm freaking out a little. I'm biting my nails and ruining the paint job that Charlotte did Thursday night when she and Edward came over for dinner. She's probably going to be really upset.

I take a deep breath in and call the only other person who can calm me down … my mother.

Her phone only rings once before her piercing shriek comes over the line. _"Bella? C'est toi? Il me semble que ça fait longtemps qu'on s'est pas parlé."_ _(Bella? Is that you? It's seems like it's been forever since you called me.)_

She's being dramatic, it's been three days … Okay, maybe five. But between work and seeing Edward, I've been a little busy.

"Oui, maman, c'est moi," I say with a laugh. "Comment vas-tu? Comment vas papa?" I ask her. I'm well aware that I'm stalling. _(Yes, __M__om, it's me. How have you been? How's__ D__addy?)_

She goes into a long-winded story about my dad cutting the wrong part of the tree they have in front of the house. She tells me how it now looks like it's leaning to one side. She was so upset about it all that she made him dinner. Trust me, that's punishment in itself, as my mother can't cook for shit—except for meatballs and meatloaf—but he ate every bite, accepting his fate. I laugh at her story then sigh, thinking of the real reason for my call.

"_Bébé, qu'est-ce qui a?" _My mother, she knows me so well. _(Baby, what's wrong?)_

"J'ai rencontré quelqu'un, maman, et il est merveilleux ... fantastique même. Mais il m'a invité à rencontrer ses parents aujourd'hui." I explain it all to her in one breath. _(I met someone, Mom, and he's great ... fantastic even. But he invited me to meet his parents today.)_

"_Et tu es nerveuse? Bella, chérie, sois toi même. Tu es une merveilleuse jeune femme et je suis sûr que tu n'as rien à craindre__,__"_ she tells me, and immediately I'm calmer. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. _(And you're nervous? Bella, honey, just be yourself. You are a wonderful young woman and I'm sure you have nothing at all to worry about.)_

I sigh again, this time in relief. "Merci, maman. J'avais vraiment besoin d'un pep talk." _(Thanks, __M__om. I really needed the pep talk.)_

"_Alors," _she begins with a girlish giggle, and I can almost hear her wiggling her eyebrows at me, _"parles-moi de ton jeune homme." (So, tell me about your young man.)_

So, I do. I tell her about meeting him on the subway, omitting the obvious things, like him sticking his crotch in my face and my wanting to nuzzle it. How we've been taking things slow despite being together for a couple months. I don't feel awkward talking to my mother about how we've decided to wait to have sex. My parents were always very open with us when it came to the taboo subjects most parents don't want to touch. I hesitate, and she immediately picks up on it.

"_Qu'est-ce que tu ne me dis pas, Isabella Marie?" (What aren't you telling me, Isabella Marie?)_

"Il ... euh ... il a une fille," I blurt out, the words rushing together. _(He … um … he has a daughter.)_

I can hear her intake of breath, just a soft gasp. I quickly explain to her about Charlotte. How he's been taking care of her all these years and how she goes to see her mother for three weeks every summer. I tell her how hardworking he is. How it pisses me off the way people treat him and judge him, before knowing what a great guy he truly is. She must hear something in my tone, I'm not sure what, but she laughs.

"_Mais, comme tu protège Edward et Charlotte. Comme je t'ai dit, Bella, tu es une merveilleuse jeune femme. Edward et sa fille sont vraiment chanceux de t'avoir. J'ai tellement hâte des rencontrer tous les deux." (My, you sure are protective of Edward and Charlotte. I told you Bella, you are a wonderful young woman. Edward and his daughter are really lucky to have you. I can't wait to meet them both.)_

"You're not angry?" I whisper.

"_Oh, Bella__.__" _She sighs. _"__W__hy would I be angry?"_

It's rare for my mother to speak English, but the warmth in her voice is the same in any language.

I shrug, though I know she can't see me. "Most people judge him. I don't know why, but I thought you and Daddy might be the same."

"_Oh, honey," _she says softly, and I can also hear the smile in her voice. _"__Y__our Edward sounds like a very strong young man to have overcome such hardship. I think he sounds wonderful. We all have pasts, honey; it's what we do in the now that's important. I can't wait to meet them both."_

I look at the time and realise I've got to leave now or I'll be late, and I really don't want to make a bad impression on Edward's parents. I thank my mother again for the pep talk and for her understanding, then tell her I love her before getting off the phone.

One parent down … two to go.

…

I don't even get to press the doorbell before the door flies open and Charlotte's hugging me squealing, "She's here, Dad! Bella's here!"

Edward walks around the corner, leading from the kitchen, wide smile on his face. I take a moment to take him all in. He's wearing a tight blue t-shirt, ink on display, with his jeans resting low on his hips, suspenders hanging down. His hair's fixed in my favourite style: the fauxhawk—only there's something a little different about it. I squint to see what it is before giggling.

He rolls his eyes. "I let Charlotte dye the tips of it blue."

"I can see that," I reply, turning to Charlotte to give her a high-five.

"I figured since he was dating a younger woman he shouldn't look so old," she tells me, laughing.

"Oh, I'll show you old, Missy." Edward laughs, lunging toward Charlotte, who squeaks and runs down the hall.

Edward pretends to chase her until she rounds the same corner he just came from. He then walks over to me, eyes slowing raking up my body from head to foot and back again. Once he's close enough that I can almost feel his chest, he cups my face in one hand, gently rubbing my lower lip with his thumb.

"Hi," he whispers, staring directly into my eyes.

"Hi," I whisper back.

He leans down and kisses me. It's the sweetest, slowest kiss of my life. We're taking our time, tongues rubbing together, twisting, tasting. Until a cough from behind Edward startles us apart.

I blush bright red and Edward's cheeks flush as well, before he moves himself behind me and says, "Hey Ma. This is Bella. Bella, this is my mother, Esme." He's rubbing his hands up and down my arms and I'm thankful for the contact. It's keeping the nerves at bay.

His mother's beautiful. Hair the same colour as Edward's, well, without the blue; her eyes the same colour as her son's. It's easy to see where he gets his looks.

She smiles warmly at me, approaching me with her hands out. She takes both my hands into hers and speaks, "Bella, it's so nice to meet you. Charlotte and Edward talk about you so much I feel as if I know you already."

I blush at her words and I can feel Edward's smile against the back of my head.

"Oh, you really are pretty when you blush," she titters, and my face flames brighter.

"Ma," Edward groans. "Please stop."

She laughs. "Sorry Bella, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's okay, Mrs. Cullen." My cheeks are so warm, I'm sure they rival a ripe strawberry in colour.

"Call me Esme, please," she insists with a soft smile. "Come, let's go into the kitchen and check on dinner. I'm sorry Carlisle's going to be a little late."

We walk through the house and the smell makes my stomach rumble. Charlotte and Edward laugh.

"Sorry," I whisper. "I … uh … didn't eat much today. Nerves." I shrug, taking a deep breath and letting out slowly.

Edward squeezes my hand.

"It won't be long now, dear," Esme says. "Why don't you get her something to drink, Edward? Charlotte, could you please set the table?"

"Sure, Mom," Charlotte says.

It's a little weird to hear Charlotte call her grandmother "Mom", but Edward had explained it was because when she was a baby everyone thought Esme was her mother, so they would say Mom in front of Charlotte and she picked it up. By the time she was old enough to correct it, the name had stuck, so it's more of a nickname now, though she still doesn't call Maggie mom. Charlotte once told me it's because she doesn't see Maggie as her mother, more of a friend who she visits three weeks a year.

Just as we're sitting down at the table, I can hear the front door open. My nerves suddenly kick in again. Sure his mother liked me, but this is Edward's dad; the tough as nails, retired military man. I swallow a gulp of my drink, while Edward rubs his hand on my thigh.

Edward's dad is … exactly as I suspected he would be. He's tall—as tall as Edward—and still muscular; his hair's still buzzed short, and he looks cold, a little mean, even.

Until he spots me and a wide smile breaks out on his face. "You must be Bella," he says as he approaches the table. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you. There was an issue at the security office."

"It's no trouble at all, Mr. Cullen," I reply, standing up from the table to shake his hand. He surprises me by pulling me into a hug.

"Dad!" I hear Edward groan from behind me. "Would you let her go please?"

Edward's dad laughs and releases me, telling me to call him Carlisle, then he takes his place at the head of the table.

I can't believe I was so nervous to meet these two. His parents are lovely. They tell me stories of Edward growing up as a boy, causing him to blush frequently. Especially when his dad tells me how he never liked to wear clothes and they'd constantly find him out riding his bike naked.

I'm laughing, and laugh even harder when Esme chimes in. "Charlotte was a good case of karma for our Edward; she loved to run around naked, too. It used to drive him bonkers."

The whole table laughs at that, and I relax instantly. Conversation flows during the rest of the meal and through dessert, which Charlotte excitedly tells me she helped to make.

After dinner, Esme tells Edward to show me his place and makes Charlotte stay back to help with the dishes. I'm more than happy for the distraction, because I need a little space to breathe after the high emotions this dinner has brought on.

"So, this is it," Edward says as he opens the door and lets me through before him. "It's not much, but it's comfortable, cheap rent and close to Char."

Looking around, I'm glad to see it's not cluttered like a typical bachelor pad usually is. From experience, single guys aren't the cleanest of creatures.

"My dad is a neat freak," he explains from behind me, as if he can read my mind. "Moving around, we were always taught to live with the bare essentials because Mom hated packing."

"This is a great space, Edward." We're in a small kitchen that opens up to a combination living and dining room. Off to the left, there're two doors and I can see his bed through one of them. I turn to him and he's rubbing the back of his neck, stepping from one foot to the next. "What's wrong?"

He looks so … uncomfortable, which is weird because this is his place and it's great. I'm actually a little jealous because damn, it looks better than my crummy little apartment.

"You … being in here." He takes a deep breath, his eyes intense. "You're the first woman I've brought here."

I smirk, taking a step toward him and scratching the light stubble on his jaw. "I like that … being here and being the only one."

He leans forward, and says against my lips, "I want you to be the only one."

My heart hammers against my chest, and his lips are on mine. We're sloppy-kissing and laughing. Happy. This is perfection and erases all the stress and worry from my mind.

I poke his ribs, and he smacks my ass as I giggle and run toward his bedroom. He follows me, laughing, and tackles me onto the bed. We're kissing again; his body cradled between my thighs, his arms on either side of my face, caging me in.

I run my hands up and down his back, my mouth following the sweet tango of his. His kisses are addictive and I get lost in him.

We're keeping this very PG, kissing like this, and I like it. Once in a while, he tickles my ribs and we roll around on the bed, so I'm holding his hands above his head and he's leaning up to catch my lips in a kiss or nibble my neck. This foreplay's the sweetest torture, but it's fantastic. I can feel how hard he is pressed up against me and I really want to rub myself against him, but I don't because the last thing I want is for any of this to get out of hand before he's ready to take that step.

We kiss and kiss and kiss some more, until a gasp breaks us out of our bubble and our heads snap toward the door.

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry," Charlotte squeaks before turning around.

I get off Edward and he quickly stands, wincing when he adjusts himself subtly. "Char, it's all good, honey. We weren't … you know …"

"Yeah, no … we weren't …" My face is flaming red. Jesus, this is embarrassing. I feel like I was just caught by my parents while grinding on the couch.

Charlotte turns back to face us, and I can tell she's trying not to laugh. Thank God, because the last thing I'd ever want is for her to be embarrassed about whatever she has witnessed. Hopefully, we weren't grinding too hard against each other.

"Way to go, Dad," she says, giggling. "I just wanted to say goodnight to Bella."

"What about me?" Edward pouts, clearly relieved she isn't freaking out about seeing us in a compromising position. At least we still had all of our clothes on.

"You too, Daddy." She rolls her eyes playfully.

We give her a hug, making a Charlotte sandwich, and she giggles, telling us we're weird goofballs. I love it. I love her and I'm definitely in love with her father.

When she leaves, telling us, "Be safe, kids," I gasp and spend a few minutes standing there, staring at the door that closed loudly behind her.

"Did she really just say that?" I ask to nobody in particular, although I'm sure Edward's wondering the exact same thing.

He chuckles and wraps his arms around my middle, leaning his chin on the top of my head. "I think she did."

We both turn toward each other and break out laughing. I swear, this day has been crazy but fun. I'm not sure anything will top it. Ever.

…

**Thanks for sticking around and reading beyond the anvil. :)**

**Thank you, Mid for all you do. **

**Thanks, Kni, for your input.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

It's been a week since the dinner with Edward's parents. Tonight, I'm the one who will be following him home after work. He says he has something he wants to show me, and I am curious as to what it's going to be this time.

Getting these little snippets of Edward's life has been a real treat. I feel like I'm slowly peeling back the layers of who he is, and what I'm finding is there's someone who's more of everything I could've ever imagined.

For now, though, I have to endure the Spanish Inquisition with my dear friend and apparent confidant, Alice. At least she seems to have toned down her loud-mouth since the whole subway grinding incident. This is something I can definitely live with. I wouldn't have gotten this close to her in the past few months otherwise. The last thing I need is for everyone in the office knowing what's going on in my life. It's enough that Rose is aware of my man-troubles, and that's only because she's my boss and has seen me get upset more often than I care to admit.

"I don't know, Bella. You're different. Getting some on the regular looks good on you," Alice says, wiggling her eyebrows. We're having lunch, minus the little breakdown on my part this time.

I cough on my drink and chew my bottom lip, fidgeting before mumbling, "We aren't sleeping together."

This time, it's Alice's turn to choke on her food. I watch her face redden, then she takes a sip of water, her eyes shining as she coughs and clears her throat. "I'm sorry, what? You mean to tell me you've been spending all this time with Mister Sexpenders himself and you're not riding his salami pony?"

I narrow my eyes at her, wiping my mouth. Did she just …? _Salami pony?_

She wipes at the mascara that's run a bit under her eyes with her napkin, then slowly sets it down. "You know, doing the nasty? Okay, fine, making loooove," she sing-songs.

"Seriously, you need to step away from Jasper and Jake. For the love of God, woman, they have corrupted you," I chastise, having trouble keeping myself from giggling, even though she sounds like an immature teenage boy instead of the lady she once was. Apparently, almost boning her boy-toy in public has loosened her up. Or maybe it's just Jasper loosening up her morals. "How's the community service going, anyway?"

She huffs. "It sucks. I have to spend the next sixteen weeks wearing an orange jumpsuit, picking up trash by the side of the 401 or face jail time. I'm telling you, public indecency is not worth it, Swan."

"Funny, that wasn't what you were saying a few months ago when it happened," I remind her, spearing a piece of chicken and shoving it in my mouth.

"Yes, well, that was back when Jasper and I were just starting out. We're like an old couple now." She sighs. "I don't regret it, but it's a long sentence, you know. I'm just glad Rose is letting me keep my job."

"Yeah, you are lucky." I nod, thinking about the ramifications of what Alice has done and knowing I'd be in her shoes had I decided to get frisky with Edward down in the train. Not that he would've let me, mind you, but still. A girl can dream.

"Speaking of lucky, why aren't you getting it on? I mean, come on, Bella." She gives me a pointed look, one I won't be able to talk myself out of. "I've seen the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him; damn, the sexual tension is so thick around you two, it's like it radiates off both of you."

I sigh, leaning forward so I can be more … discreet. "Look, he's scared, all right. He has Charlotte and he's …"

"Stage fright?" she interrupts.

I shrug. "No, not really, I mean, he gets …"

"Hard?" She grins. Pervert.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I mean, he just wants us to wait. He prefers the relationship to be solid before he has sex … in case of pregnancy. He wants at least the expectation of being together long-term to be there."

"Jesus, he does realise that was a fluke, right?" She leans back in her seat, wiping her mouth. "It's not like he'll get all the girls he's with pregnant." Her eyes grow wide and she looks at me pointedly. "Oh, my God, there have been other girls, right? Because damn, he's too cute to be that sexually repressed."

Stunned, I start giggling nervously. She makes a good point; I mean, what if it's been so long he won't ever want to have sex? My showerhead's already getting way too much action lately. That would suck. I'm rather enjoying the grinding sessions, but damn.

I remind myself of the conversations Edward and I have had, and tell Alice he's not _that _repressed and she should have faith I will get some soon. Not that it's any of her business, of course, but we girls do like to talk.

We finish our lunch and go back to work. I'm giddy because I'm seeing Edward later; she's pissed because she's spending tomorrow on the 401.

Oh well, at least she's not going to be defiling the highway anytime soon. I hope.

...

The slow progress of our physical relationship is well-worth all the talking and getting to know each other we've been doing. Even though every cell in my body wants to be naked with him on a horizontal surface, like, now. So, after a great evening together I'm a bit confused when he gets up and tells me to grab my coat, it's time to go.

"This is yours?" I ask, looking at the shiny black Honda in the garage. "You have a car? Why take the subway, then?"

He shrugs. "It's easier to get downtown in mid-rush hour on the train."

Makes sense. Why waste two hours trying to get to work in the middle of rush hour traffic when you can sit comfortably on the train and read while someone else drives?

"Good point," I agree. "Why haven't you used it before?"

"I hate driving in this city." He makes a pained face. "I've gotten so used to not using it. Plus, parking anywhere is a pain in the ass, not to mention expensive."

"Very true." I take my eyes off him and look back to the car. "Were you planning on taking us anywhere?"

He opens the passenger side and gestures for me to get in. "We're going for a drive and I'll take you home." He leans in once I'm sitting down and kisses me softly. "It's Friday night and getting late. I wouldn't make my girlfriend take the train on her own and this is going to be fun."

I want to argue that I've taken the night train alone plenty of times before and probably will again, but I don't. He seems pretty excited. This should be fun.

He closes the door and walks around the front, and all I can think about is how wonderful it is to hear him call me that. His girlfriend. Every time he does, my heart skips a beat and I get a little swoony, whatever that is.

Since Edward's house is actually not that far from mine, if you drive through some residential streets, I get confused when he starts driving the opposite way.

"Where are we going?" And here I thought we were going to go to my place and resume where we left off last weekend in his room.

"There's this spot I like to go to," he says cryptically. All I can think about is how he's earned my trust and now is going to chop me up in little pieces, scatter my remains in the woods to be found and eaten by the rare Torontonian coyotes that lurk just outside the city.

Sometimes, my mind is a scary place. It probably doesn't help that I fell asleep last night while watching _Halloween_.

We drive around, enjoying the serene peace of the quickly darkening streets and low hum of the radio, until Edward parks the car near the edge of a deserted road. "Where are we?"

He smiles and opens his door. "Follow me."

This is it. I'm going to die.

I slowly exit the car, taking his extended hand as he leads us through a path lit only by the moonlight and city lights radiating from miles away. "Seriously, Edward. Where are we?"

We walk for a few minutes before Edward says, "This is my favourite spot."

I look on in awe as the cityscape shines bright in front of us. There's a glow in the air over tall buildings and the low hum of the commuters can be heard all the way here. "This is beautiful, Edward."

He turns to me and brings his hand to my neck, his thumb running over the sensitive skin on the underside of my jaw. "I haven't felt like this about anyone … ever," he tells me, stopping to take a deep breath, his eyes not leaving mine. "I am so in love with you, Bella, sometimes, I feel like I'm dreaming."

My eyes brim with happy tears and my breath stops short. My heart swells incredibly big in my chest as I watch his face; his lips; his eyes. "I love you, too. So freaking much."

His lips are on mine before I'm done speaking, and my hands immediately find the back of his head, holding his face to mine in a kiss that rivals all the others he's given me. My potential dismemberment is completely forgotten as he works my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip and slipping his tongue against mine.

I let out a loud embarrassing whimper as he breaks our kiss and sucks at the skin below my ear.

"I think we should … go to my place," I tell him, breathless from the feel of him pressed against me and playing my body like he does his guitar.

He pulls away, his own breathing coming in pants and licks his lips. "Okay." he swallows. "Okay."

…

We arrive back at my building and Edward parks out front. He's gripping the steering wheel tightly in his hands. He's nervous and that, in turn, is making me nervous.

"Hey," I say, touching his knuckle. "We don't … you know ... have to do anything. We can just ... hang out ... or whatever. It's Friday night, we can watch a movie." My belly tightens in anticipation and I know Aunt Flo is rearing her ugly head; that bitch. At least I have a good excuse to stop myself from trying to get him naked. The poor guy's nervous enough as it is.

He expels a breath and turns his head slightly. He's looking at me so full of love, so full of admiration that my own breath catches in my throat once again. Patience, I'm reminded, is something I need to cling to. Although, we have plenty of time to knock it out of the park, rounding a few bases wouldn't hurt anyone. In the long run, this is probably a conversation we need to explore.

Wordlessly, he turns off the ignition and hops out of the car, quickly coming around to my side and opening my door. Lacing our fingers together we walk up the steps of my building and inside.

Once the door to my apartment is closed and locked, I offer Edward a beer. He gratefully accepts while I shoo him toward the couch and go into the kitchen. I grab the two beers from the fridge and open them, remembering the last time we had beer here. And what came after, the feeling of him underneath me: hard, panting, wanting, coming. Fuck patience.

I startle when I feel his arms come around my waist. He kisses the back of my neck. "You okay?"

"Yeah ... um ... I was just thinking," I say, my cheeks getting warm.

He turns me around so I'm facing him, tracing my blush with his finger. "About what?"

I look up and meet his eyes. "About us ... about ... um ... last time you were here and we had beer." We've been at my place plenty of times since then, but things were kept pretty PG between us in comparison.

I can see the minute he remembers that night on my couch, and us grinding against each other like teenagers. His body is clearly on board with this train of thought as I feel him harden slightly against my belly.

He clears his throat. "Yeah ... that was ..."

"Fantastic," I breathe out, then attack his mouth with my own, unable to contain myself and needing him this way.

He grunts and grips my hair in his hands, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to tilt my head to where he wants it to be. We're a mess of teeth and tongue, nipping and sucking, biting and pulling.

I shriek a little in surprise as his hands leave my hair and he lifts me onto my kitchen table, pushing himself between my thighs as he rubs his hard cock against my centre. I moan as his one arm wraps itself around my waist and pulls me closer to the edge of the table. I run my hands up his legs, grabbing his ass, pulling him more firmly into me. God, it feels so good.

Moving my hands farther up I grip the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up his torso slowly, revealing the hard lines and planes of his stomach. I'm struggling trying to get his shirt off over his head and he helps me out, throwing it somewhere across the room.

I kiss and lick his chest, stopping to suck one of his nipples in my mouth. I bite down gently and pull. Edward grunts low in the back of his throat and thrusts against me harder.

I want to feel him. I want him in my hand, in my mouth. Fuck, I want him inside me pulsing, exploding.

I want it more than I've ever wanted anything in a while. But what I truly want: is to make him feel good. To show him what he makes me feel like every time he's near me. And damn, I'm going to make it happen.

He kisses my neck, sucking on the skin, biting gently. I push against him a little, and he backs off.

"What's wrong?" he asks; his breathing choppy; his lips plump and red from our kisses.

I shake my head and hop down off the table, sliding my body against his as I go, reminding me of when I'd stand up on the subway.

I turn him around so his back is to the table, his ass resting just off the edge, and before he can protest I'm down on my knees. This is turning me on as much as it him. The power I have over him when I'm in this position drives me insane with lust.

Looking up at him, I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. The look in his eyes is something I've never seen before. Dark with desire, yet hopeful, pleading for me to keep going. I'm not sure which emotion he's truly feeling, but he doesn't stop me when I unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. Knowing he's on board with this, I keep going; hoping he doesn't stop me from doing what I've been dreaming of for months.

He groans when I run my hand inside his cotton boxers and pull out his cock. Thick, long, and feeling heavy in my palm, it's almost as beautiful as he is. I run my hand along the shaft, giving him a light squeeze when I get to the base.

His sharp inhale and "Oh, shit, Bella," rolling off his lips is all the encouragement I need, before pulling back his foreskin, exposing just the tip. I flick my tongue against the sensitive end a few times, then take him into my mouth. Edward curses as he runs a hand through my hair. A shiver of need runs down my spine, settling into my groin, spurring me on as I use my tongue, lips, and hand to bring him pleasure. An uncut cock means more room to play with the shaft and skin, and the head is so sensitive, it drives me crazy just thinking about how good this must feel for him.

My efforts are rewarded as Edward hisses loudly when I again pull back his foreskin and run my tongue around the sensitive head. "Christ, woman … fuck." He inhales sharply as my eyes meet his.

All teasing aside, once he looks as if he can't take it anymore, I take him deep into my mouth and hum around his length. I know he's close when he hardens tenfold in my hand and mouth, and grunts a little louder, his fingers fisting my hair.

When he comes, I swallow every drop, because damn, seeing his face like that was worth the wait.

I stand up then, a smirk on my lips as I look at his flushed face. He's panting, and there's a slight bead of sweat right above his eyebrows.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," I tell him, remembering the sight of his crotch in my face while we were on the train. It feels like a lifetime ago. Way back when neither of us knew of the skeletons in each other's closets.

He leans down and kisses me nice and deep, unaffected by the fact I just had his jizz in my mouth. "Thank you," he laughs, "I mean, not thanks for ... that, but thank you for just ... being you, Bella."

I blush at his words and not at the fact he's standing there with his softening cock hanging out of his pants, while my own lady bits are a mess. "I ... I get it." I laugh along with him.

He starts touching me, wanting to make me feel good too, but I tell him, with a frown, that Aunt Flo is most likely on her way, as indicated by the soft cramps low in my belly, and I'm okay. For now.

"That was about you, Edward. I … really enjoyed … making you feel good." My ego's also flying high as a kite because the boy looks like he's as relaxed as he could possibly get.

We settle on the couch then, and end up watching some random movie. Edward falls asleep, so I take a shower, trusting the shower head with my fantasies, and cursing when I feel the telltale cramps get worse. Damn hormones. When I'm finished drying off and putting on my shirt for bed, I wake Edward and ask him if he's staying.

He nods, and hand in hand, I lead him to my bed where I fall asleep safely cocooned in his arms.

…

***lights imaginary cig* yeah, so that happened. **

**Mid… you are a great amongst greats… thank you!**

**Kni… I'm sorry your underwear didn't make it. I'll send you new ones…**

**Thank YOU for reading, reviewing, pimping, loving… :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Life is blissful when you're in a love bubble. Every touch, every look, every word between you is stored in your memory. Things to look back on when you're old and grey and rocking on your front porch. Even Mr. Hale's crackdown and subsequent overload of work can't get me down.

Edward and I continue to meet on the train every morning. Nights are spent either at his place or mine. Sometimes apart; sometimes with Charlotte; and sometimes without. We don't really do anything more sexually, but that's okay. I'm content to stay at his pace, even if my showers are extra-long and I have to take two a day. Getting up fifteen minutes early never really hurt anyone.

Our train rides are full of longing looks and shared smiles. It's gotten to the point that when Edward gets on the train, Carmen, my scary-sweet knitter, has taken to getting up and moving so he can sit right next to me and we can snuggle up together, watching videos on my phone, or reading. She actually kicks the young man out of the seat across from us and knits while glancing at us from time to time. At first we tried to protest her moving, but she told us, in her thick accent, that our "love was beautiful to watch." Her words made both of us blush. Such a sweet lady.

Charlotte and I have even gone out, just us girls, like I promised. I really love this kid. She's sweet, and so much girlier than I was at her age. We spend our girl time getting our nails done or window shopping. Both things I normally wouldn't do, but for her, I find I'll do pretty much anything. She's fun to hang around with and I see a lot of her father in her. No wonder we get along so well.

My parents and sister arrive a few weeks later. I'm not nervous to introduce them. We plan dinner at my place, and if my dad is surprised I'm seeing a man with a twelve going on thirteen-year-old daughter, he hides it well. I have a feeling my mother may have clued him in.

"And this must be Charlotte?" Mom says, bright smile on her lips and affection in her eyes. She loves kids. Always has. We had the most fun as teenagers, Angela and I. Mom was one of those tough cookies when she needed to be, but a great friend, too.

"Bonjour, Madame Swan," Charlotte replies, not missing a beat with her slight English accent shining through her French.

Mom brings a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she briefly looks over at me. "Oh, mais quelle surprise! I didn't know you spoke French." _(Oh, what a surprise!)_

"Bella me l'a dit," Charlotte replies, smiling wide, all proud of herself. _(Bella told me.)_

Dad looks on with an amused smirk, and Edward couldn't be prouder.

Mom wraps an arm around Charlotte's shoulders. "Viens avec moi, je veux que tu rencontres quelqu'un." The two walk off to the living room where Angela, Ben, and the girls are playing a game of cards. _(Come with me, I want you to meet someone.)_

Mom and Charlotte bond quickly, making my heart swell so big my chest hurts.

"That was quick," I comment, turning to Edward and taking his hand in mine.

"Let's get this show on the road, sweetie." Dad leads the way into the living room, where Charlotte's already sitting on the floor beside my nieces and animatedly talking with them.

I quickly introduce Edward and watch Angela's face get red as she shakes his hand. Ben just shakes his head at seeing the look on his wife's face, no doubt fully aware of everything I've ever told her about him.

Angela's just as taken with Charlotte and Edward as my parents. Not surprisingly, my nieces are in love with the girl, too. They want to play with Charlotte all the time and Char's great, getting down on the floor with them to colour and play with Barbies. She doesn't complain once, and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me think about one day giving her a brother or sister of her own. The way Edward watches her, and then looks at me, has me thinking we're kind of on the same page … not right this minute … but in the future. Maybe.

Though it's chilly, sightseeing with my parents ends up being a blast. We do a lot of walking around downtown during their last day, showing them the Air Canada Centre and Rogers Centre—or Skydome as my dad still calls it. He's disappointed he won't get to see the Leafs play while he's here, but they're on a road trip. We do take in the Hockey Hall of Fame, though, and he's quite surprised to hear of Charlotte's love of all things sports.

All in all, the most surprising thing to happen over the weekend happens with my father. I expected him to be more aloof with Edward and maybe even Charlotte, but it's the complete opposite. Edward and my dad share a lot in common, surprisingly. They spend their time talking about music and fishing, the store where Edward works, and about the music lessons he teaches.

By the end of their visit, Charlotte has my dad wrapped around her little finger as much as my sister's kids do. We've even discussed the possibility of Edward and Charlotte coming with me to my parents' place in Kitchener over Christmas break.

I should've known that eventually my bubble would burst. Nobody can live in a happy bubble forever.

When reality hits though, I'm far from prepared for it.

_Sometimes, reality sucks ass._

...

At first I don't notice there's anything wrong.

Monday morning on the train, we talk of all the stuff we're going to do during the week. I tell Edward that after work I want to take Charlotte out for dinner and a movie as a thank you for what she did with my nieces on the weekend. He says it's okay with him, as he usually does. He likes that she has another role model to look up to, and I love that he looks at me that way. Edward kisses me before I get off the train and everything seems fine as always.

I send Charlotte a text through the day and am a bit disappointed when she turns down my offer, as she never has before. I tell myself, maybe she has a lot of homework or simply needs some alone time to recuperate from being around my loud family. I've been helping her with her math these past few weeks, as she's still struggling a bit, even with the aid of a tutor, so I figure maybe she's playing catch up. I shrug it off and send her a message letting her know we can reschedule any time.

The next morning, Edward texts to let me know he won't be on the train and he has plans to go out after work with some coworkers. No big deal. I tell him I love him and to have fun with the guys. I have some catching up at work of my own to do so I stay late and do my best to make Mr. Hale happy. When I get home, I'm exhausted as I pour myself a bowl of cereal and fall asleep watching Letterman.

By Thursday, Edward still hasn't taken the train. He's barely responded to my texts and Charlotte hasn't returned my message. My gut clenches at the thought that maybe I've done something to upset her, or Edward. I just wish I knew what it was.

I rack my brain for the next two days, trying to give them their space, but can't for the life of me think of anything.

Saturday's horrible. I don't hear from Edward at all. My call goes to voicemail and message goes unanswered, so I eventually give up. Curling up on the couch, I eat my weight in ice cream and drown my worries in wine.

I wake up Sunday with the worst hangover I've had in forever and want to do nothing but lay in bed. The fire alarm going off nearly causes my head to explode, and I groan at the thought of having to get out of my bed. Seeing anyone is abhorrent right now.

Can't I just wallow in misery?

I drag my ass out of bed and try to avoid everyone. That isn't possible with Newton on the scene, though. Luckily, Jake's able to save me from him by putting his arm around me and telling Newton to "back the fuck off."

Then he turns to me, and tilts my chin up so I can meet his gaze. "I'm worried about you, Bella. For weeks you've been running around here with the sun shining out your ass and this weekend you look like shit. And if I have to hear 'Love Hurts' by Nazareth one more time I might be forced to stab myself in the ears."

I try to smile but it's weak. Jake kisses the side of my head, and when the building's cleared and we can go in, he guides me to his apartment and sits me down at the table.

"All right, Swan, spill it," he demands, taking a seat across from me.

So I do. I tell him everything. How hurt I feel. How I can't figure out what I've done to push them away.

He puts things in perspective for me, telling me that maybe Edward and Charlotte have had a bad week or something. That I should just ride it out. But, if by Friday things haven't gone back to the way they were, I shouldn't keep my feelings bottled up; I should confront Edward and ask him what the problem is. That I deserve to know.

Jake can be a real goofball, but sometimes he gives pretty good advice. We talk about his brother's budding relationship with Alice, as he makes me dinner and forces me to eat real food.

Before leaving his place, he encourages me to have patience with Edward; says I should sleep on my decisions before doing anything potentially regretful.

Patience. I'm starting to really hate that word.

…

When Edward isn't on the train again the next morning, I start to get angry. When he doesn't text or call all day I think, _fuck him_, then I go and cry in the bathroom. I'm a complete mess over this guy and it's totally not right. This isn't me. It's so far out of my character I start to wonder how I could have possibly let myself fall for this guy so much and let him hurt me this bad.

Rosalie finds me and, while wringing her hands, tells me I should probably go home for the day, as it's nearing five anyway. I need the distraction, though, so I turn her down and stay at work until eight, trying not to let the tears fall as I type as quickly as my fingers will let me.

I attempt once more to get a hold of Edward and Charlotte both, but just like all the other times during the past week, neither of them responds. I'm starting to feel like a stalker and this is enough. I've had enough of all of it.

So I just … let it go. It's difficult, painfully difficult, but how much do I have to push before I lose myself completely?

I decide if they don't want me in their lives anymore I won't try and insert myself. I was fine being alone. There were men before Edward Cullen and there will be others after.

I can feel my heart splinter at the thought of never seeing either of them again. Part of me will probably never get over the loss.

I call in sick the next day, and Rosalie graciously gives me the rest of the week off. She says with the amount of overtime I've worked the last few days I deserve it; and also she knows I was in on Saturday, before getting drunk off my ass, and she'll see me Monday.

I spend Wednesday and Thursday in bed, wallowing in self-pity, again. This time, I keep the music low so I don't bother Jake.

God, I feel pathetic. But what do you do when the two people, who you love most in this world, aside from your family, suddenly want nothing to do with you and don't explain why? Again, my head can't wrap itself around any of it and the pain in my chest is back with a vengeance.

By Friday night, I'm back to being pissed off.

Patience, my ass. I need answers.

Steeling myself for a battle, I grab my jacket and head for the bus. I'm going to Edward's, and he's going to tell me what I did wrong.

I'm going to give him a piece of my mind about how shitty he's treated me, when he claimed to love me. Then, I'm going to walk away; because he's made it clear he doesn't want me anymore.

After that, I'm going to cry myself to sleep, get up, and start my life over. At least, I'll always have my memories.

…

**Ugh. That bastard! I know… it's raining anvils… **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing and sticking with us…**

**Mid and Kni… much love…**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

As I approach the house, I notice how odd it is that not a single light's on. Normally, there would be at least one or two burning, even at this time of the night. I know Carlisle doesn't usually have to work this late, and wonder briefly if maybe coming all this way was a mistake; that they've all gone out or away for the weekend.

The thought of this going on any longer without explanation is causing my stomach to be upset. Okay, so that could also be due to the copious amounts of booze I've been consuming in the past week and a half.

Right now, I need answers; and if I have to sit out on Edward's door step and wait all night, I'm going to get them, damn it. Good thing the booze is keeping me warm.

I'm not drunk, though. At least I don't think so … okay, maybe I might be, just a little.

As I round the corner toward where Edward's separate apartment is, I notice a faint glow of light, probably coming through from the bedroom in the back. I both want to cry in relief and throw up in the bushes. I knew that mickey of Crown was a bad idea.

I make a tonne of noise trying to silently climb the stairs, but I'm a little tipsy, suddenly very nervous, and my feet aren't cooperating. I'm making so much noise I'm surprised Edward hasn't come out to see what's up.

Then I stop and consider the reasons why he may not have heard me. Maybe he's not home. Maybe he's on a date. I gag at the last thought and have to stop myself from throwing up. Just the idea he could have moved on from me already makes tears form in my eyes. If I were rational at all right now, I would consider all the times he told me why it took him so long to even approach me on the train before making his move, but I'm far from rational right now. I've been drinking, and I'm an emotional wreck, and clearly illogical in my thought process.

When I finally manage to make my way to the door, I'm pissed off again. This has been my cycle for last two weeks. First, I'm so hurt I'm bawling like a baby, the next minute I'm so pissed I fear the first thing I might do when I see his is slap him, or punch him, or kick him in the junk.

I start pounding on the door, calling out his name, not caring at all if his neighbours call the cops at this point. Maybe I can get my community service with Alice if that happens. That thought makes me snort, which dies quickly when Edward wrenches the door open so fast my fist almost hits his face.

"Bella?" he questions.

I pause for a minute to just take in his appearance. Gone are the jeans and suspenders, he's wearing grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt. Gone is the vibrancy of his eyes; he looks like he hasn't slept in days, weeks even. The deep shadows marring the skin under his eyes make him look kind of like ... well, me, if I'm going to be honest.

It almost looks as though he's about to reach for my face, but he drops his hand before it can make it.

We stand there looking at each other for longer than what should be appropriate. He doesn't look as if he even knows what to say and this is so very awkward, but I'm determined to get my answers. If he wants me to leave him alone after that I will. It'll be the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but for him, I'd do it. I just need answers.

"Can we talk?" I ask him quietly.

"Sure," he replies with a deep breath, stepping back and allowing me to pass him into the apartment. He offers me a drink, and I laugh, telling him I think I've had enough. After grabbing himself a beer from the fridge, he settles down beside me on the couch, then sighs heavily before he begins speaking ... and what he says throws me for a loop.

"I don't know what to do, Bella," he starts; his voice laced with aggravation and upset. "I want you to know that I don't want to hurt you, but I just don't know what the hell to do and it's fucking with my head." He looks at me then, the pain in his eyes, his face, makes my throat clench and the tears I'd been trying to keep at bay spill over and run down my cheeks. I know what's coming. What I've known all week. He continues, "I love you, please know that. I always will. God Bella, it took me forever to find you. But things are so fucked up right now. I just … I can't ..."

He looks petrified as he takes me in. I'm a snot-sobbing mess, and he looks like I've just stabbed him in the heart, while he's the one holding the knife.

"What happened, Edward? Just, what the hell happened?" I ask, clinging to his shirt as if he's my last lifeline. Clearly, the alcohol's making me brave enough to ask or stupid enough to need to know or care.

"I love you so much, but Charlotte's my daughter. I have to be there for her first. I've missed you, but I don't know … I honestly don't know what to do, Bella." He closes his eyes and leans into me. "You're the first serious relationship I've been in since … forever. And I don't know how to deal with this shit."

I don't even know what I'm supposed to do or say to that. Then I realise, despite all that's happened the last few weeks, I can't simply sit here and do nothing. We're both hurting and no matter what, we still love each other.

So, I wrap my arms around him and tug him to my body. He grips me so tight, I'm finding it hard to breathe, but I'm not going to try and back away from his embrace. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until I was wrapped in his arms.

Edward takes several deep, shuddering breaths, opening and closing his mouth, as though he wants to speak but doesn't know where to begin. "The day after you had dinner with my parents, Maggie called. Charlotte had left some stuff there and she'd just found it. She wanted to talk to Char to see if it was worth mailing back or just leave it there until next summer, but complained Char wasn't answering her phone."

I frown. "And? I don't get it." I take a deep breath, doing my best to rein in the snark.

He looks away. "Mom thought Maggie already knew about us. I don't know." He shrugs, taking another cleansing breath. "She told Maggie you'd taken Char to the movies. Turns out Maggie didn't know who you were, so she sort of shit bricks when Mom told her I had a girlfriend."

I roll my eyes. "You're allowed a life, Edward." I swear, this Maggie chick … _Grrr _...

He nods, closing his eyes before continuing, "That's not it, though. When Charlotte finally returned her call, all she did was ask questions about you. Charlotte didn't think anything of it and gushed about all the cool things you did with her: like going to the mall to get your nails done, shopping, dinners out, and taking her to see her favourite movies. She's even been telling Maggie about meeting your family and about how _awesome _your nieces are."

His hands clench into fists, and I can see the tightness in his jaw. He's getting angry and frustrated, and I hate it. I hate seeing him this way. I hate that this has happened to us and I want to make it all better again, because I realise how much he means to me; what his happiness means to me. Their happiness.

"Suddenly, out of nowhere, here's Maggie. She's calling every day, wants to Skype with Char all the time. I … I didn't know what to do about it. She's never taken this much interest in Charlotte and suddenly here she comes, out of the woodwork." He stands up, agitated, and walks around the living room. "That first time you were supposed to have dinner with Charlotte, and she told you she couldn't, it was because she didn't want to miss her time with Maggie." He rolls his eyes. "I was pissed. Charlotte and I got into an argument about it. Charlotte was in tears by the end, and my dad told me to leave the house so he could deal with her. I said some really nasty things to her. My own daughter."

I don't really _want _to know, but I _need _to know everything and he tells me.

"I'm not proud of the things I said to her, Bella," he prefaces. "But I was really fucking angry. She was acting like a brat and I didn't hesitate to tell her that. She's my kid and I raised her better than that." He pauses for a moment. "I told her that in all the years she's been alive, her mother didn't want her except for three weeks every summer, and here you were, willing to spend all this time with her, even though you probably hated doing some of those things, and she was blowing you off because her _'mother' _was acting like jealous bitch."

I almost want to slap him again. "But I love spending time with Char, Edward. It doesn't matter to me what we're doing," I protest, frustrated he told her I probably hated doing some of those things. "She's like the baby sister I never had," I confess, realising that was exactly the type of relationship we had. "Angela's great, but she's older than me and never lets me forget about it."

He groans and grips his hair. "I know that, and I really shouldn't have said any of it. But I was so fucking pissed off, and I took it out on her, when really I should've called Maggie and asked her what the fuck she was doing. Instead, what I managed to do was imply that you really didn't want to spend that time with her." He looks away, running a hand through his hair. "It went downhill after that. She refused to 'force' you to spend time with her. I tried to apologise to her and let her know I was angry and said things I didn't mean. But she was hurt, and didn't want to ask you herself because she thought you would just tell her what she wanted to hear. I'm fairly certain now that Maggie has been planting stuff in her head too, but I can't prove it." He turns to me and takes my hand in his. "God, Bella, this whole thing's just so messed up and I am so, so sorry for avoiding you, but I couldn't face you after that."

I'm stunned; I really don't know what to say or do. So I simply sit there, motionless, trying to regulate my breathing and my heart rate at this point.

The only thing I can manage to finally say is, "So, it's not that you don't want me anymore?" My chest aches with this realisation.

His head snaps up and he groans again, pulling me into his arms. "Baby, I'll always want you."

I breathe steadily in and out, before the tears, I've been desperately trying to suppress, start falling down my cheeks again and I'm clutching his shirt in my hands and sobbing.

"Shh, it's all right, Bella. We can do this if you still want it. I promise; it was never you." He's trying to soothe me, his hands running up and down my back. "We can try and work it out, right?" My body responds to him and, unfortunately, I couldn't pull away even if I tried. I'm tired and I do want him still.

We sit in silence for a while, the two of us lost in our thoughts as he holds me, before I ask him, "Where is everyone?"

He sighs, explaining, "That's the fucked up part. Maggie wanted Charlotte to come and visit her for the weekend. The 'mother' who only ever wanted to see her daughter three weeks out of every year for almost thirteen years, suddenly wants to spend the weekend with her 'daughter'. I got pissed, refused to let her go. She told me she hated me. Things were getting heated again, so my parents stepped in. Told me I should let her go. They took her there. I refused to go, out of principle. I don't think it's a good idea, and I can only see Char getting hurt by it somehow."

I'm at a complete loss of what to say, and my alcohol addled mind is in a confused state of what-the-fuckness beyond anything it's ever experienced. That's gonna hurt in the morning.

Finally, I think, maybe Maggie's turning over a new leaf, but it's not really my place to voice it out loud.

Taking a deep breath, I rehearse my words carefully in my head then say, "You really hurt me, you know? This has been hell." My intention isn't to make him feel worse about what just went on, but I can't keep it all in either. "You need to trust me, Edward."

His eyes burn into mine. "I do trust you, Bella." He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "For God's sake, I trust you with my daughter. I don't do that with everyone I meet."

My face heats up and I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from blurting out anything that would make this worse. "Then you need to talk to me instead of running away." My words are sharp. I hope they don't cut too deep, but I can't keep them to myself any longer; their jagged edges making my insides ache. I refuse to do this to myself over any guy. He's lucky I even decided to come here tonight. But love does strange things, and sometimes I guess the heart wants what it wants.

He nods, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry, sweetheart." He holds me close and kisses my temple, letting his lips linger against my skin. "You have no idea how torn and confused I was, but I'm so relieved and grateful you're here."

The heat of his body near mine intensifies the deep throbbing in my gut. Everything I have in me yearns to touch him and lose myself in him; even after all he's put me through. I love him. I love him so fucking much it hurts me to know how much pain he's feeling, and how much crap he's beating himself up over.

"We can't avoid the hard stuff, Edward," I tell him. "Even if you want to run from it." This seems like a bad habit he needs to break. He needs to learn to trust me if this is going to work.

"You mean; it's not over between us?" Edward asks quietly, looking down at his lap and back up to meet my eyes.

His uncertainty is overwhelming. To look at him, you'd never know he lacks this much self-confidence when it comes to personal relationships. But I'm learning him, and I don't want this to be over. His inexperience, when it comes to a personal, adult relationship, is obvious now, but it's not as if I've done that much living myself.

I cup his cheek and tilt his head up to mine. "Not unless you want us to be." Deep down, I'm still love-drunk, head over heels for him.

"God, no," he breathes.

"Then we won't be. But, Edward?" I look in his eyes and get lost for a moment before continuing, "Just talk to me next time. Don't blow me off. We'll get through the hard stuff together, okay?"

He releases another breath nodding. "Okay. And Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"I really do love you. I see you in my future and I was stupid, so fucking stupid, and I will never, ever forgive myself for hurting you like that." He closes his eyes and swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down a few times, before he opens his eyes again. "I was an idiot, and should've just talked to you. We'll sort everything out with Char too, okay?"

I'm nodding my head and crying again. I'm so happy we got this hashed out, somewhat. I have no doubt we can be strong and learn from this. If anything, these past few weeks have taught me that I'm not as independent as I thought I was. Love hurts, but it's worth everything. Everything.

I yawn and rub my eyes. I'm so tired. My emotions have drained me and I haven't been sleeping well, for obvious reasons.

Edward hesitantly asks me if I want to spend the night. I agree, too tired to go back home and too relieved to say no.

He leads me to his room and gives me a shirt to change into. I fall asleep in his arms, safe in the knowledge we'll make it through this together.

...

Something wakes me in the middle of the night. At first I can't figure out what it is. Then I realise it's a hard body, and equally hard part of that body, pressing up against my back. There's a hand on my breast, squeezing softly, thumb occasionally stroking my nipple. It's sending a jolt of pleasure right to my core and I can't help but press myself backward, wiggling my hips.

I can tell Edward's still sleeping. I can feel his even breaths against the back of my neck. He must be dreaming, but I'm rather enjoying the soft strokes on my nipple and the occasional thrust of his hips. In spite of everything we've been through, my body wants him and my mind is too muddled to argue. I'm probably dreaming.

Subtly, I move his hand from my breast and slide it down my body to where I want him to stroke. I'm so fucking horny I can't even help but take advantage of the situation. Is it wrong? Definitely. But again, I am asleep, right? Probably.

The dreamy haze I'm in leaves no room for guilt as I wiggle myself into a position where his hand's slightly cupping me, and slowly move my hips forward and back. The grip on my pussy tightens slightly and Edward moans a little breathy moan into the back of my neck. His fingers start to rub against my underwear, my t-shirt having ridden up when I wiggled myself into position. I groan softly, his fingers feel so,_ so_ good.

I feel his hand shift slightly up and I whimper a little protest, until I feel it at the top band of my panties. His fingers dip beneath the band just slightly before sliding down, down, down to where I want them. The first contact of his digit against my clit feels like heaven. He's stroking me slowly, barely touching. I need more and adjust myself a little higher, rubbing against his cock in the process.

He grunts a little and shifts closer to me, his finger dipping down to my entrance. He then presses soft kisses to the back of my neck, finger slipping in just a bit. I use my hand to push his finger a little deeper inside and cry out lowly at the sensation.

I roll more onto my back, spreading my legs wider for him to have better access, and start to kiss along his jaw. His erection is pressed against my hip now, and I remember what it felt like in my hands, in my mouth, his taste on my tongue. It's been weeks, but the memories linger like it happened last night.

I take my hand and place it on top of his, helping him move his finger in and out of me. It's driving me crazy and I want ... no I need ... more.

In the process of trying to insert another one of his fingers my own slips inside with his. I can feel how wet, warm, and tight I am.

Edward moans deep in the back of his throat. He plants kisses against the side of my head, breath coming in harsher pants, as his finger, along with mine, speeds up. I tilt my head up and capture his lips in a kiss.

His eyes blink open slowly at first and his hand stills, then he opens them wide as he fully wakes up. When he looks down and sees both of our hands inside my panties, he groans out, "Jesus, Bella. I thought I was dreaming, but fuck," he thrusts his finger again causing mine to move, "this is a dream come true." I'm sloppy wet and panting so hard, I think I might explode if I don't come.

He kisses me then, deeply. I can't even care if I have bad middle-of-the-night breath because he's kissing me as if it's the last thing he's ever going to do, while his hand moves and he's shifting our fingers deeper.

My legs part even farther and he moves himself so he's almost lying on top of the one closest to him, pinning it to the bed.

Our fingers are moving quicker inside me and I can feel myself grow wetter the faster we stroke. He nuzzles his face against my breast and sucks one of my nipples through my shirt; the feel of the wet material is new, but it feels so, so, so amazing. My walls start to flutter, and I'm trying to move my hips, chasing my approaching orgasm, but he stops my movement and removes our fingers.

I whine in protest. "Are you kidding me?"

He kisses my pout and whispers in my ear, "I want to taste you."

And, oh God, I want that, too. I want it _so_ bad.

He slides himself down my body, pushing up my shirt as he goes. I take the hint and take it off completely.

He kisses down my torso, stopping to pay attention to my nipples, tracing around my belly button with his tongue.

Once he gets to my panties, he slides his tongue under the band and uses both hands to slowly pull them down.

When I'm fully exposed to him, he blows a soft breath against my heated skin and I moan, wiggling my hips. Ignoring my need, he positions himself between my thighs licking and sucking, first one then the other, right in the crease between my thigh and my pussy.

I cry out in frustration, in want. I'm not even sure. All I know is that I want this man, now.

I grip his head and direct him to where I'm aching for him. His chuckle forces more air against me and I'm desperate, clawing at his shirt, trying to push myself against his face.

Giving me what I want this time, he starts with slow little licks at first, the lack of friction driving me insane. He nuzzles my clit with his nose and I don't think anyone has ever done that before, but fuck it's hot. He plants tiny kisses there, using his tongue to lap at me, finally giving me what I need.

I prop myself up on my elbows and look down, and I think I could die from the sight. Through the soft moonlight filtering into his bedroom window, I can see Edward has his eyes wide open, staring right back at me. He holds my gaze as he laps and licks and sucks until my legs are shaking, my arms are trembling, and I can no longer hold my own weight.

I flop back down on the bed and he stretches both arms up over my hips, sliding them up my chest, cupping my breasts in his hands. He's pinching and pulling my nipples in time with each thrust of his tongue and then I'm coming. I'm coming so hard I don't think I'll ever stop. My head's twisting wildly back and forth, my hips pinned beneath his arms, and it's too much; so much so I think I might pass out. It's the best thing I've ever felt in my entire life, and I don't want it to stop. My whole body's trembling with aftershocks as his licks get slower and softer as he helps me come down from my high.

He kisses his way back up my body, while I'm breathless and panting. I can't seem to get my body to stop trembling. He wraps me up in his arms and kisses me, and I can taste myself on him. God, the two of us combined tastes good.

I don't think I ever want this euphoric feeling to go away. Ever.

Groggy and half-asleep, he pulls the blankets up to cover both of us, and our kisses become slower, lazier, until we both succumb to sleep.

…

**Thanks for reading and not sending out death threats. It's appreciated.**

**Mid and Kni … thanks for sticking with our brand of crazy. And Mid, thank you so much for getting this one out so quickly. Love you long time, woman!**

**See y'all Monday!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Waking up on a Saturday morning in Edward's arms is something I can definitely get used to. Every time it happens, I pray it's not the last. When I thought I'd lost him, it broke me to think I'd never feel him against me like this again.

Last night's events are still playing on a loop in my brain as I watch him sleep. Hashing out our problems, deciding neither of us would run from the other, then the feel of his fingers and his mouth as he pleasured me. Now that's something I could get used to. If he never wants to have actual intercourse, I'd settle for third base for the rest of my life.

Stretching, I realise I'm still stark-naked, while he's in his boxers. That's probably a good idea. My mental capacity at this time of day is pretty low. Combine it with the slight headache I'm sporting, most likely due to the impending hangover, and I could easily kiss that "settle for third base" plan of mine goodbye.

"Morning." His sleep rumpled voice sends a shiver down my body.

I smile. "Morning."

"I'm glad last night wasn't a dream. I would've been crushed to wake up and realise I was still being a coward and avoiding you, and you weren't really here," he says, lazily kissing my shoulder and pulling me close.

As much as we talked last night, I'm still feeling a little lost and unsure. "Promise you won't avoid me again. I'm not sure my heart could handle it." My throat hurts, and the last few words come out quieter than intended. "You need to man up and talk to me."

He pulls me closer and nuzzles my neck. "I barely survived not having you around, sweetheart. I can't tell you it'll be perfect, but I can promise you I'll try my damned best."

"I love you and Charlotte so much." I turn my head and smooth down the massive mess of hair on his head. "You guys have become part of my family. I can't imagine not having you there."

He kisses me softly, then leans his forehead against mine. "We'll work on it, Bella. Charlotte and I need to regroup and talk. I know she misses you. We'll be okay."

I wipe a few tears from my cheeks and nod. "I really want to let her know that while, no, going shopping and getting my nails done isn't me, it's the act of spending time with her that I love the most, and I wouldn't change anything about our time together," I explain, hoping he understands my point.

He nods. "I know. I get it, now." He brushes away the errant tendrils from my forehead, his eyes searching my face. "I was an ass. This is a first for me; for us. She's so confused over the whole Maggie debacle right now; it's no use trying to talk to her until she's sorted it out on her own. She'll come around Bella; I know she will, and we'll get our shit right."

I laugh a little at the expression on his face and close my eyes; my body relaxing against his while his hand runs up and down my side. At some point, I drift off, my mind finally in a good place.

...

As we're eating breakfast, some of the conversation from last night runs on a loop in my head and I can't help when I blurt out, "I still don't get why you didn't call." It's not that I want to argue, but I really need to know. We aren't ten years old. We're adults, for Christ's sake.

He puts his spoon down, the Lucky Charms in his bowl not looking so lucky swimming in the tepid, blue milk. "I … I don't know." He shrugs, frowning. "At first, I was going to. I was trying to find a way to ask for a few days, but then the more I procrastinated, the more days went by, until it was too late and I thought you'd be too pissed to talk to me, anyway."

"You realise how sucky that is, right? I mean, come on, Edward. I love you. I mean it. I. Love. You. That means I'm willing to listen if you have something to say." I push my bowl of cereal away, my marshmallows now all soggy and the milk sadly turning gross. I usually love Lucky Charms. Especially the blue milk.

He rubs his hands over his face and pinches his eyebrows. "I know that now. You're the first woman I let in, Bella. The first one I feel so strongly about. You're my first … a lot of things, and I should've handled it differently, but I didn't. I was an idiot."

I nod in agreement. "Just don't make that mistake again. Please." I search his face, my heart racing because I want this to work out so badly, but we need to say these things out loud. I'm not going to compromise myself for anyone, no matter how much I love him. "I love you. We can do this, but you have to meet me half way."

"I know. I'm pissed off at a lot of people, and none of them are you. I'm pissed at Maggie for what she's done and at my parents for stepping in when they did. But these things aren't on you, Bella. I'm sorry if I made you feel like they were." He scratches the stubble on his chin, which for some reason makes me squirm. My mind's a fucked up place to be because I shouldn't be thinking of the way that stubble felt against my thighs last night.

I shake those thoughts away and get back to the task at hand, which seems to be accepting things are the way they are and that we're going to move forward. "Okay. Sounds good." I smile. "So, what do you want to do today?"

Such a loaded question, since last time I asked him that we ended up spending the day having fun at an amusement park. Today, though, we decide to lie in bed and watch movies. The headache making its way behind my eyelids isn't any fun, and I end up drifting in and out of sleep with Edward holding me in his arms the entire time.

Later, we decide it would probably be best for me to go home tonight so he can speak to Charlotte privately. He promises me he'll see me in the morning.

I understand he and Charlotte do have a lot of stuff they need to work out; just the two of them. So when Edward drives me to my place, I make sure to kiss him nice and good before watching him drive away.

It's the first night, in a long time, my bed feels like my own and my pillow is dry when I fall asleep.

...

The next morning at seven forty-three Edward boards the train looking worse, if that's possible, than he did when I saw him Friday night.

"How did it go last night?" I ask, though, judging from the look of him, it wasn't good.

He sighs, running a hand through his chaotic hair. "Not good. Char was distraught when she came home. She refused to even talk to me or my parents. Just stormed up the stairs, slammed the door to her room, and stayed there the rest of the night."

I feel so bad for him, for her; what could have happened?

"My parents told me she'd been quiet on the way home too, but she refused to talk about her time with Maggie. I went up to talk to her, and I could hear her crying through the door." He rubs his tired eyes. "I don't know what to do with this, Bella. How do I talk to her when I was such a dick? Now she's shutting me out, probably because she doesn't feel like she can talk to me. I don't know how to handle this."

I want to tell him the first step would be finding this Maggie bitch and kicking her in the crotch, but I don't think that's appropriate. I settle for standing in front of him and wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. His face finds my neck, and I can feel him exhale shakily.

"Things will get better. Char loves you. You're her dad, and she's a teenage girl. She'll eventually come around." I run a hand up and down his back and feel him sag against me, as if I'm the only thing holding him up. This strong man; sometimes he's still a little boy. For all these things he's been through, his heart's so big and strong; how could I not fall for him completely?

"Thanks." His voice is soft and he kisses the spot below my ear. "I needed that." He pulls back and kisses my lips. "I'm so lucky I met you."

I smile big and run a hand through his hair. "Just breathe, Edward." I wink and make a funny face, recalling the song he'd put on my phone as his ringtone. "It'll be okay."

...

Shortly before noon, my cell phone rings and I'm almost expecting Edward, but when I look at the screen, I'm shocked to see Charlotte's face grinning back at me.

I answer the call, and Charlotte is crying. I can barely make out what she's saying and it's making me nervous, so I ask her if Edward's okay. She tearfully explains he's fine, but she can't get hold of either him or Esme, and asks me if I can come get her at school.

I ask to speak to the receptionist, and she puts her on the phone. I'm shocked to discover I've been added to Charlotte's pick-up list at school and tell them I'll be there to collect her as soon as I'm able. The thought of taking the subway doesn't even enter my mind as I call a cab and go to the school.

When the cab pulls up front I pay him and practically run into the school, turning right then left before spotting the sign for the office. The look Charlotte gives me when I walk through the door splays my heart wide open. She appears to have been crying a while, and the minute my foot crosses the threshold she's in my arms, sobbing and telling me, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Bella. I do love you. I do. I'm sorry I pushed you away."

I look over her head at the receptionist, who gives me a shrug, and I wrap the tearful girl in my arms, trying to soothe her, telling her we'll work it out. After five minutes of uncontrollable crying, I manage to get her to sit so I can sign her out. Edward may be upset, but he wouldn't have given me this power if he didn't want me to use it. This must've happened a few weeks ago when we had made plans to go to the movies after school and I was supposed to pick her up. Either way, I won't abuse this kind of power, but Charlotte obviously needs someone she can trust right now, and I miss the hell out of this little girl.

Once she's signed out, I call for another cab and take her back to my place. I tell her to have a seat, but she shakes her head no. I look at her confused, and she starts crying again.

"Christ, Char, what's wrong, sweetheart?" I rub her arms up and down, attempting to comfort her as best I can. She shrugs and looks away, her lips quivering as tears stream down her face. "Char, if you can't tell me that's fine, but I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong," I say softly, trying to get it out of her. I feel like I'm pulling teeth. Jesus, this parenting thing isn't easy. Then again, Edward's her father, so like father; like daughter, I suppose.

"I … um … I got my period," she tells me very quietly, blushing profusely.

I roll my eyes and try not to smile. Whoa, this is major. "Is this your first?" She nods shyly. "Do you have any … supplies?" This feels a little awkward to ask, but poor kid … I don't even want to imagine being in her shoes.

"I don't have any more. I used the only one I had 'for just in case' at school," she explains softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

I lead her to my bathroom and give her the assortment of tampons and pads I keep in there, telling her to use whatever she needs.

She tells me that while she was prepared for when it happened the first time, she didn't know it was going to be this bad. "The cramps are pretty rough," she says with a frown. "And, I'm like, all over the place. Also, my pants feel really tight," she adds, motioning to her skinny jeans.

I give her a gentle smile in understanding and take her to my room where I hand her a pair of yoga pants, making a joke about them probably being too short for her long legs. This seems to calm her down and make her relax.

"Thank you so much, Bella." She hugs me, holding the yoga pants in one hand and pulling me tight with her other arm. "I tried calling Dad and Mom, but when I couldn't reach either of them … I panicked and then I called you."

I pull back from our embrace. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

She nods; her cheeks blazing pink. "I do. I'm so sorry, Bella. Dad was very upset and … I didn't think … I'm sorry." She sniffs, leftover tears staining her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

I pull her against me and hug her as tight as I can; soothing her with soft words and telling her I love her. "You're like my baby sister, you know? I love you." She nods, her face pressed into my neck. I lean back and smooth out some of her bangs. "Now, I need to go to the store, and you need to rest, young lady."

She smiles, sniffling, and heads to the bathroom to change into the spare pants. When she comes back out, we giggle at the sight of the obvious short pants. I tell her to lie down on the couch, then give her a heating pad for the cramps.

I also tell her to stay put while I run a quick errand. "There's chocolate in it for you," I promise with a wide grin.

I use this excuse to send a text to Edward to let him know Charlotte's with me, and I had to sign her out. Then I call Rosalie to let her know I won't be back for the rest of the day. When I explain to her what happened, she's thankfully very understanding.

I go to the convenience store near my house and buy some ice cream, chips, and chocolate. Armed with my loot, I go back to my place and find Charlotte's once again crying. My heart breaks for her a little more seeing her this way—I remember what it was like, all the changes; it can be overwhelming. "Oh, sweet girl, come on. I brought you some junk food. I want you to talk to me, okay?"

She hugs me tightly, whispering, "Thanks, Bella, I really do love you." But still she says nothing else. I'm content to just ride it out; wait until she's ready.

...

We're in the middle of our second movie, having gone through a bag of chips and a pint of ice cream already, when Charlotte turns to me and quietly says, "She told me you didn't really like me, you know?" With a small shrug, she adds, "That you were only pretending to like me so Dad would like you more."

I groan into my hands. "I bet your dad telling you I didn't like having my nails painted and going shopping just confirmed that for you, huh?"

She nods, and now I _really_ want to kick that bitch right in the crotch, and maybe slap Edward upside the head for not handling this quite the right way. "Charlotte, I wouldn't be spending all this time with you if I didn't want to, okay?"

"Okay," she responds, looking at her lap.

I continue, "You're like the little sister I never had. I love the time we spend together, and I'd like to think that if things didn't work out between me and your dad, you and I could remain friends."

She looks at me then, those big, blue eyes shining. "You mean that, Bella?"

"Of course I do. I am not your mother. He—I mean, heck, I'm way too young to be anyone's mother, but I am your friend, Char. All right?" I smile, wanting to make sure she understands.

She smiles back and lunges at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Thanks, Bella. You'll make a great stepmom."

I'm so stunned, I choke on my spit, muttering, "Ehm, thanks?"

She grins, sitting back. "Just so you know ... this weekend with Maggie wasn't much fun. I don't know why she even wanted me to come. Once I got there, she spent all her time with her boyfriend, and I ended up back at the hotel with Mom and Pop. I'm sorry I ditched you, Bella. I'm sorry about all of this."

"Apology accepted, and I'm sorry your weekend wasn't fun." Poor kid. This Maggie woman sounds more and more like a manipulative bitch.

"Dad said you came by and wanted to kick his butt." She smirks, that one dimple showing.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well, I wanted him to talk to me. Neither of you were answering my texts or my calls. I didn't know what was going on."

"He needs you, you know. You make him happy," she says, turning back to the movie.

"He makes me happy, too. You both do." I take the pint of ice cream and shove a spoonful into my mouth.

…

When Edward arrives, Charlotte and I are goofing around in the kitchen making pasta for dinner. I'm not sure what to make of him when he first walks into the apartment, but once Charlotte runs up to him and hugs him tight, telling him how great her afternoon was with me, he visibly relaxes.

Charlotte goes back to stirring the sauce, so I take advantage of this by pulling Edward into the living room for a few words.

"She's gonna be okay," I reassure him, chewing my thumbnail. I'm not sure how to tell him his baby girl isn't a baby anymore.

He nods and pulls me into a hug. "Thanks for picking her up." His arms tighten around me. "I'm glad to see you two made up."

"Yeah, well, we had a good talk. We're fine now." I lean back from his embrace and whisper, "You may want to stop at Shoppers for some feminine hygiene products when you leave here, though."

It takes a few moments for my words to kick in before his eyes widen and he palms his face; his skin draining of colour before my eyes. I'd be a little worried about his reaction if I weren't trying to keep myself from losing my shit. I've got my lips sealed up tight, but when he looks at me, I break and start laughing out loud. He looks like he's scared shitless, and I guess he should be. Being the father of a teenage daughter is one thing, but knowing that teenager's now officially ready to be a woman is a whole other story. Man, I'm so not ready to be a parent.

"Take your time, sweetheart," I tease, kiss his cheek, then push back his hair and look at his face. His eyes aren't as sunken in as they were this morning. "I'll be in there helping your daughter make dinner."

When I enter the kitchen, Charlotte's exactly where I left her. I'd given her the task of stirring the pasta sauce while I added the spices and other ingredients. She's pretty comfortable in the kitchen; it's something she tells me she likes doing with Esme.

"I don't know if my meatballs will be as good as your mom's, but they're my momma's recipe," I tell her, as I take the balls out of the oven and start adding them to the pot she's diligently stirring.

"They smell really good," she says, her eyes scanning the room behind me. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

I laugh. We'd agreed I would tell him about Aunt Flo because she's still a bit shy about it all. "He'll be fine, honey. You're sure you're okay, though?"

She nods. "Yeah. The cramps aren't as bad now. Being a woman sucks." She purses her lips, and I tell her I couldn't agree more.

Edward walks into the kitchen, goes straight to Charlotte and pulls her into his arms. I give them privacy by removing the ladle from Char's hand and taking over the stirring. Edward whispers something in her ear, and she giggles. I can't help the smile on my face as I watch the pot of sauce start to bubble.

Dinner's a quiet affair. Charlotte regales her father with the movies we watched and, thankfully, neglects telling him how much junk food I let her have. Hey, a girl on her first period deserves as many carbs as possible, and I'm happy I could be there for her.

I manage to find out my meatballs are indeed as good as Esme's; a fact Edward tells me over and over again as he manages to eat three platefuls of pasta. I'm beyond thrilled he likes them because they're pretty much the only things I can make relatively well straight from a recipe. I'm not a great chef, nor is my mother, for that matter, but the things I can make usually taste pretty good. I just have this thing about following orders. Usually, I end up making food by looking at what's in the fridge and throwing it all together somehow. Mom says it's a gift I got from her mother. Whatever it is, I'll take it if it looks as though I can feed all six feet something of Edward's frame with it.

The three of us do the dishes, and once the kitchen's clean and everything's picked up from our girly afternoon in front of the television, Edward calls Esme, and she offers to pick them up.

While we're waiting for her, he pulls me into his arms and kisses under my ear. "I told Mom about Char. She burst out crying and insisted on picking us up," he says with a chuckle.

I laugh. "Oh, man. Mom did that with Angela. By the time my turn came around, I knew all the basics and didn't even have to tell anyone."

"We knew it was going to happen sooner or later." He sighs as Charlotte joins us by the door, her backpack in hand.

"You got everything?" I ask her, letting go of Edward and facing her.

She nods and hugs me tight. "Thank you so much for today, Bella."

I wrap my arms around her, my eyes finding Edward, who's watching us intently. "Anytime, kiddo. You know I love you, right?"

She pulls back and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I love you, too."

I kiss Edward's cheek just as a horn beeps from outside. "Talk to you later?"

He kisses my lips. "Definitely. Love you; and thank you for today."

"Yeah, yeah." I roll my eyes. "Love you, too."

…

**I'm glad some of you keep in mind that this is Bella's point of view, therefore we are learning things as they happen, just like her, so it's normal to have some strong reactions to what she finds out.**

**Thank you for the lovely words and recs out there. They mean a lot to us.**

**Again, this wouldn't be what it is without Mid's help. Seriously, lady, it's love. Seriously!**

**And Kni, it's coming… :D**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The monotonous screeching of the rails, as the train speeds down the dark tunnel, is slowly lulling me to relax against my seat while the world goes on around me. I didn't sleep enough last night, and I'm currently regretting this as my eyes slowly slip closed, only to pop back open when the train hits a bump on the rails.

As promised, once Charlotte was settled into bed, Edward called to let me know everything was okay and he'd see me in the morning.

When I couldn't sleep after that, I decided to call Angela to try and get some perspective. We ended up talking about nothing and everything until one, or both of us fell asleep with the phone against our ear. It was like what we did when we were teenagers and she was in college, while I was still living with Mom and Dad.

She says she's proud of me for being an adult about everything, which is awesome praise, coming from her.

I don't regret it though, what happened with Edward. In the long run it will make us stronger. I'm glad we're almost back to where we left off. I'm also glad I hadn't gone to Angela or my mom to cry on their shoulders. I can't imagine having to turn tail and tell them what a huge misunderstanding this was. They would've possibly been as upset as I was over this, and I don't need the added drama that any of it entails. It's enough I now have to have a little sit down with Alice and beg her not to hate on Edward for turning me into a drunk.

I watch out the window across from me as the landscape on the walls change from dark corridor to lit platform with bystanders waiting for their morning commute. I sit up a bit as I recognise where I am. My face splits into a grin as I watch Edward, wearing his telltale black trench coat and sporting the blue-tipped fauxhawk, make his way toward the door to my right.

Once the door opens, he coolly walks past everyone else—his eyes trained on me—and comes to stand right in front of me.

"Hey," I say, looking up, giving him a nod and a grin.

Holding on to the bar as the train starts moving forward, he leans down and kisses my temple. "Hey."

I sit back in my seat and look up at him. His face seems relaxed and peaceful, unlike it did yesterday or even last night when he left my place. "You look like you had a good night's sleep?" I jut out my bottom lip, because damn, it's just not fair that he looks so good. "Here I am looking like an extra from _The Walking Dead_."

He chuckles. "You look beautiful, Bella."

I scrunch up my face and shift in my seat, softly elbowing the man next to me. "Sorry." Looking up at Edward, I want to argue, but the way he's looking at me makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and the words die on my tongue. Instead, I say, "Thanks."

He bumps my foot with his, and I move a little to let him stand between my legs. I wish there was room for us to sit together, but there simply isn't any. I really hate riding while standing as it throws off my equilibrium and I end up feeling nauseous every damn time. So instead, I lean forward and revel in Edward's touch, as he puts a hand in my hair while I close my eyes and listen to the noises from the clanking tracks.

I must doze off because the next thing I know, Edward's shaking me. "Bella. Bella? Hey, Bells, wake up, sweetheart. We're almost at your stop."

I blink and stretch backward, lost for a few seconds before I realise where I am. "I fell asleep?" Yes, I'm brilliant.

Edward softly caresses my cheek and subsequently wipes the drool from the corner of my mouth. "You were snoring." He smirks, showing my favourite dimple.

"Shit. Seriously?" I run a hand through my hair, trying to tame it from what Edward has done to it while we were riding.

He laughs and pushes the hair from my face. "Just a little."

I look around. "I hope Rose doesn't expect me to be very productive today." Edward steps back so I can stand up. "Can I see you later?"

He pulls me against him and buries his face in my neck, his breath tickling the skin below my ear. "Of course."

They announce my stop, and Edward kisses me quickly before I make it out the door with the rest of the passengers from my car.

...

I'm typing away at work when Alice walks into my work area, scowl firmly in place. I glance up at her in confusion.

"There's someone here to see you," she huffs out, before turning and walking away.

I'm confused at her attitude, but save what I'm working on, then stand up and make my way out to the reception area. What I see stops me short.

Edward's standing there, looking slightly abashed, hands in his pockets, with Alice's finger pointed to his chest, her other hand flailing, and I catch the tail end of what she's saying, "... was a complete mess because of you. You'd better not do that again."

He looks up and sees me, causing her to turn, huff at me again and waltz back to her desk. I rush up to him quickly.

"Hey." I smile up at him.

"Hey yourself," he returns, brushing his finger across my jaw.

Heat creeps up my cheeks as it always does whenever he touches me that way. "Not that I don't want to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Edward shrugs. "I had some time between lessons, thought I'd come and take you out for lunch; that is, if you're free?"

I glance back at Alice, who rolls her eyes at me before smiling slightly and shooing me with her hand. I tell Edward to wait just a minute while I grab my purse and my coat, then rush back to my office to get them.

Once I have my things I head back out to meet him. He takes my hand in his and leads me outside. Man, is it ever cold out here. I don't care who you are or how long you've lived in Canada, cold is cold and I hate it.

The door has just closed behind us when Edward pushes me up against the wall and proceeds to kiss the shit out of me. Breathless and a little dazed, when he pulls back, all I can manage is a goofy grin and another, "Hi."

He huffs a laugh. "I wanted to do that so badly inside, figured it wouldn't look too good, though."

I roll my eyes at him and push his shoulder. He takes my hand and walks me down to the diner; the one Alice and I were at when I first saw him with Charlotte.

Once we've ordered our food and sat down, he grabs my hand over the table, and rubbing my knuckles says, "So, I wanted to thank you again, for what you did for Charlotte yesterday." 

I shrug my shoulders. "It was no big deal, Edward."

He sighs. "It was a big deal, Bella. A huge deal, actually. You have no idea what it meant to her … what it meant to me. You took care of her. It meant … it meant a lot, to both of us." He takes a deep breath and adds in a low whisper, "As if I couldn't love you more."

I blush at his praise. "I didn't do it for the praise, Edward. How's your mom? She looked a little haggard when she picked you up."

He snorts, rolling his eyes. "Mom was a mess." He laughs. "Hovering, fluttering over her, asking her how she was feeling. It was ridiculous."

He tells me how once the hovering was over, he and Charlotte went up to his place to have a talk about their fight. He apologised to her for the stuff he'd said, explained he was angry and took it out on her and that wasn't right. He also tells me how Charlotte came clean and told him the stuff Maggie had been saying on the phone and Skype. Things like, I was only doing stuff with her to look good to him and how when he said what he did about me hating those things it confirmed it for her. He looks so pained when he finishes, I get out of my seat and slide next to him in the booth.

"We've sorted that out now, Edward," I tell him. "And, as I told Charlotte, even if things didn't work out between us, I would still do those things with her." He doesn't look shocked by my declaration. A bit awed, but not shocked.

He goes on to tell me how Charlotte also elaborated about her weekend with Maggie—how she was basically ignored in favour of the boyfriend.

"God, I could just wring her fucking neck, Bella," he spits out angrily. "How do you do that to your child? I'm so pissed. Charlotte told me she doesn't want to go there this summer, but I'm torn. It's not like we have a court order or anything, but I'm not sure if it's merely her hurt that's talking or if she's serious."

"Maybe she'll change her mind closer to the summer. There's still a lot of time between now and then," I say with a shrug, trying to keep him calm by being the voice of reason.

"I do know that Char and I will be having a long conversation before that happens," he tells me. "And I'm also going to make damn sure that Maggie knows I won't tolerate that shit again."

I'm relieved. I don't know Maggie personally, but from everything I've heard she's manipulative and spiteful. I don't trust her.

We stop talking about heavy subjects and finish the rest of our lunch. He walks me back to my building and kisses me sweetly before swatting my ass, telling me to get back to work.

I watch him walk away with a smile on my face.

When I go inside, Alice squints her eyes at me, giving me her 'spill it, Swan' pointed glare, that just ends up making her look constipated.

I sigh, I know I should tell her everything that happened, but there isn't time. So, I text Edward to let him know I'm going to be spending some time with her after work and won't be on the train.

He sends me back a sad emoticon and it makes me laugh.

I text him back that I shouldn't be too long if he wants to meet for dinner, but he says not to worry about him and to have fun.

After work I meet Alice at her desk, and we go up the street to the bar for a drink. Well, she's having a drink, I stick with Coke. My stomach lurches at the thought of consuming alcohol of any type.

I explain what happened this weekend. Going to Edward's and how we worked everything out, and then what happened on Monday with Charlotte and how I really want to kick Maggie in the crotch.

"Man, so do I," she says with a little growl. "What a complete bitch."

I nod. "She doesn't know what a great kid she has. It's a damn shame, really."

Alice nods in agreement. "I laid into Edward and told him he'd better never do that again," she says. "He promised me he wouldn't. For some reason, I believe him."

"Thanks, Al. I appreciate you looking out for me." And I really do appreciate it. I can't imagine what it must've been like to watch me go downhill and not be able to do anything to make it better.

She shrugs. "That's what friends are for, Bella."

I nod, smiling. Point made. "How's the community service going?" I need to change the subject before we start talking about my sex life, or worse, hers.

Her eyes light up. "I'm almost done, but Jasper got a few more hours tacked on, though," she says with a giggle.

When I ask her how, she tells me he punched their supervisor in the face. "Alec wasn't really doing anything. He was just flirting with me, like he normally does, and bam, right in the kisser."

I laugh out loud. For as much as she gets on my nerves, sometimes, Alice is always good for entertainment.

We eat dinner and part ways at the subway station; her heading downtown, me heading home.

I arrive at my place, and I'm almost disappointed Edward isn't here, but I'm still tired from being up most of the night. I text him to let him know I'm home and I'll see him tomorrow.

Then, after a warm bath and cup of chamomile tea, I finally get some much needed sleep.

…

**Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing and rec'ing this fic. It warms my heart to see y'all sticking with this story's ups and downs.**

**Thanks to Mid and Kni for doing their thing.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

With December, comes the excitement of winter and the upcoming holiday season. It's cold outside in the morning and I miss seeing Edward's ink now that he's bundled up under a heavy jacket.

We have finalised plans for the holidays. Christmas is going to be spent here with his family and Charlotte, then they're both coming to Kitchener with me for New Year's. It was hard telling my parents that, for the first time in twenty-five years, I wouldn't be home for Christmas, but being an adult means making adult decisions, and one of those decisions means spending Christmas with Edward's family. Angela seems fine with it; after all, she's been dealing with duel families for about ten years now, and Ben's family is nowhere near as fun as Edward's.

Esme and Carlisle are great. They're probably the most supportive parents I've ever met. I mean, not everyone would do what they did for Edward and certainly not for Charlotte, but Esme insists she'd never change a thing, even if it means raising her own granddaughter again. Knowing what I know about Esme, and the kind heart she has, it's a shame she was never able to have more children.

When Edward had originally told me about being a military brat, I'd immediately thought his father would be this tough as nails Drill Sergeant, but meeting Carlisle has changed my views on that opinion.

Actually, meeting Edward has changed my views on a lot of things.

When I'd first laid my eyes on him, I just thought of him as a cute guy with cool hair and ink. I now know him as a wonderful man and great father to a kid I'd be proud to call my own someday.

Charlotte's finally settled into a routine and has stopped questioning whether or not I'll always be there. She now goes to school and straight home, except on Tuesdays when I pick her up and we take advantage of a cheap movie night at the old theatre around the corner from my apartment building. Those nights, Edward picks her up in his car and sometimes, we sneak off to his favourite spot to make out like teenagers. He once said he'd missed out on doing that when he was a kid, and well, who am I to deny him that rite of passage?

Life moves quickly when you're happy. The time Edward and I spent apart was good for us. It got us to focus on the good stuff, which is what we do now.

Alice has come around, too; and so has Jasper. Unfortunately.

Jake's having a little gathering. He calls it his pre-Christmas bash. I'm just hoping nothing illegal happens this time. Alice and Jasper have been warned. I also think someone may have given the Toronto Transit Authority the heads-up about the possibility of another offence.

It may or may not have been me. I plead the fifth.

We're all sitting around the table playing a riveting game of Asshole. Edward's next to me with a hand on my knee while Jake and Sam are mixing drinks in the kitchen. Alice is this hand's official Asshole, so she's making the rounds and dealing the cards while making googly eyes at Jasper.

Emmett's President and Rose likes to point out how he's gonna get lucky later if this hand works out in her favour.

We're laughing and having a good time, and I realise how, for the first time, one of these little parties isn't getting on my nerves.

"Ladies," Jake announces, bringing a tray filled with assorted colourful shots into the room and placing it on the table.

Edward takes a shot glass and hands me one. The jelly-like quality of whatever is inside makes my stomach churn. I've never been a fan of Jake's awesome drinks, and I have a feeling I'm going to regret what I'm about to do. That being said, my little drinking binge from when Edward and I were apart sort of gave me an iron stomach when it comes to the hard stuff.

"To friends," Sam toasts, once everyone has a glass in hand. We all cheer loudly and take our shots. The grimace on Edward's face is well worth it.

"That's my last one," I tell Edward and kiss his cheek. The burn in my throat tells me it's not going to be a good night if I keep going, and I'm in no mood for prayer. My porcelain God will have to wait.

"Mine, too," he says lowly, kissing his favourite spot under my ear. "I'm teaching a group of kids at the community centre in the morning."

Teaching music while hung over can never be a good thing.

Hearing this, Emmett asks what Edward's teaching, then the two go on about music and what they like. At one point, Jasper chimes in with his love of Daft Punk and all things Techno.

Watching all these people interacting is surreal. Like, my life has converged into this place and all my people are together in one room. Weird.

Later, when we get home, in the quiet stillness of my apartment, I realise how blissful my life has become in so little time.

"I think you're a little tipsy," Edward calls me out on saying words like "blissful" out loud.

I giggle. "Hear me out. I used to hate Jake's parties and tonight was actually kind of fun."

He wraps his arms around me. "I wouldn't have anything to do with that, would I?"

He flashes me that dimple, and I giggle some more. Maybe I am a little tipsy. "I think you have everything to do with that, Edward." I reach up on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. "And I couldn't be any happier."

He kisses me softly and pulls away, whispering, "You sure about that?"

Flashes of the two of us pressed up against the wall of the subway station filter behind my eyelids and I start giggling. "At least my place isn't far from Jake's." Opening my eyes, I continue, "You know, so we don't repeat Alice and Jasper's … indiscretion."

Edward licks his lips and looks down at me, his eyes roaming my legs and lingering on my breasts for a beat too long before they make it back up to my face. "I wouldn't be opposed to some minor indiscretions of our own." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Est-ce que tu viens te coucher, mon amour?" he asks, eyes smoldering. _(Are you coming to bed, my love?)_

"Je ne te refuserai jamais," I tell him, fisting his t-shirt and playfully pushing him toward my room. _(I'd never refuse you.)_

Once in the sanctity of my room, we start kissing and fumbling with clothes. As always, he's good with his fingers and a god with his tongue. That third base always taunts me, but I don't push. I know when he's ready, he'll be clear and flat out talk to me.

If anything, I've learned, when it comes to Edward, communication's our greatest obstacle, but in the end always worth fighting for.

After, when I take him in my hand and then my mouth, it's my turn to make him feel like he's my entire world.

And when I fall asleep with my head resting on his chest and my hand over his heart, I feel like all the small pieces of my little world finally make sense and fit together, like they should.

…

Weeks go by and I realise we've come a long way, the three of us rebuilding what was almost broken.

One weekend when Edward's working, Charlotte tells me she wants to do something we've never done before, so I take her to the Aquarium. I haven't been in ages and since the weather outside sucks balls, it's the perfect place to go.

"You know, I've always had a strange fascination with fish," I inform her, trailing my finger lightly across the window of the tank in front of us.

She grins, quirking an eyebrow at me. "Which ones are your favourite?"

"I don't know, really, I like all kinds. Except Betta's, those fish are nasty," I answer with a shudder.

She starts to giggle, and I level her with the most serious look I can muster. "Seriously Char, did you know that Betta fish can carry Tuberculosis and transfer it to humans?" I shudder, closing my eyes and making a disgusted face.

She stares at me for a minute before bursting out laughing. I can no longer hold in my own laughter, and the next thing I know we're leaning against each other, holding our sides and garnering all sorts of attention. Sometimes, it's difficult to tell which one of us is the adult. She brings out the kid in me, and I love it. I adore this time we get to spend together, just me and her, it gives us a chance to really get to know one another.

Finally, we manage to get ourselves under control and move on to the next exhibit. We spend the time talking about everything under the sun. She tells me more about the boy she has a crush on and tries to make me promise not to tell Edward.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm not going to do that, Char," I tell her. "No more secrets."

She gives me a pout and rolls her eyes, reminding me that I'm the adult and she's the kid here.

"If there's anything we all should've learned by what happened a month ago, it's that communication's the key to a healthy relationship." I give her a pointed look. She should know this as it's probably the best advice I will ever be able to give her. "I love you, and I want you to feel like you can come to me. There're some things I won't have to tell your dad, but please don't ask me to keep major stuff from him."

"I'm sorry, Bella," she says, looking contrite. "I shouldn't have tried to put you in that position, but you know what Dad is like when it comes to that stuff. He'll have a fit."

I laugh, nodding. "I know that, and I'll do my best to help him see that he's raised you well, Char, because he has, but we all need to be open and honest with each other or this won't work. Plus, you have to remember you'll always be his little girl, no matter what. This means he's always going to have trouble letting you go, especially into the arms of another man."

She smiles at me and gives me a hug, and I know that we're going to be okay. "Thanks, Bella."

"No problem." I let her go and look around, laughing, I say, "Next time you see my dad, ask him how he reacted the first time I brought home a boy. Trust me, whatever your dad does will never be as bad."

By the time we're done in the Aquarium our feet are sore and we're exhausted. Edward comes to pick us up and takes us out for dinner. Then we go back to his place, and I pass out almost right away.

…

**A little time jump… A little fun… :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Mid rocks! Kni rolls! lolol**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

At this point, since we've been together for a while and are now sharing this whole holiday thing, Edward makes more of an effort to take me out on dates, which I think is sweet since it was never something that bothered me much in the first place. He jokingly says he doesn't want all of our free time spent together on public transit. I tell him I don't mind that much, especially when we get a little frisky in the empty car. Not as frisky as some—namely Alice and Jasper—but frisky enough for us.

We spend time hanging out at his place and mine, talking about everything: the past, the future, where we see our relationship going.

We're lying together in his bed one night, and he's playing with my fingers, when he suddenly blurts out, "Do you ever think about getting married?"

To my surprise, I'm not even shocked about it. It makes me feel more secure about us; to know I'm not the only one who envisions that in our future. "Of course I do," I tell him, kissing his chest. "Though, to be honest, I hadn't thought very much about it before I met you." I can feel my face heating up with my words, and he kisses the top of my head. I can also feel him grinning, and I poke him in the rib with my finger. "Shut it, Mr. Smuggy McSmugpants."

He laughs. "I didn't say anything."

"I can feel your smirk from here." I giggle softly, rolling my eyes.

He goes back to playing with my fingers, specifically my left hand ring finger, wiggling it back and forth. "Is it something that you've thought about doing soon?"

I glance up at him and wait for him to look at me, before replying, "I'm not really sure. I mean, I've thought about it, but more the who ... not the when and where."

He sighs, nodding, and tightens his arms around me. I don't know where he's going with this conversation, but I feel the need to tell him that I'd say yes, if he asked. So I do. He kisses me and all conversation stops as we get wrapped up in pleasuring each other.

...

My lease is up at the end of March and we discuss the idea of me moving in with him. I feel a little hesitant about that step. His place is great, but I would feel almost as if I were taking advantage of his parents. We discuss other options, such as the two of us getting a place somewhere else close by, or taking Charlotte with us. We decide to shelve that conversation for at least a little while longer. Until then we decide to keep our eyes and ears open for other options as they may come up.

My company shuts down for Christmas, whereas Edward's does not. He often works extra hours during the holiday season with the shop being open additional hours.

I take Charlotte gift shopping. She really is funny getting her gifts. She's so excited that she managed to save enough money to get what she wanted for Edward.

Nobody has wanted to broach the Maggie subject with Char since she admitted to Edward and his parents what happened when she went to visit. So, I'm kind of shocked when she tells me that Maggie called wanting to spend time with her over her Christmas break.

"What did you say to her?" I clear my throat and do my best to remain calm, even though my insides wanna burst out in excitement that she's opening up to me about this sensitive subject.

She shrugs. "I told her that Dad and I already had plans; that after Christmas we're going to spend time with your family."

I look over at her and the smile's gone from her face. Not wanting to block other shoppers by standing in the middle of the hall, I take her hand and pull her to the nearest bench. We sit down and I face her. "How did she react to that?" I ask; though I can guess from her change in attitude it probably wasn't good.

Tears well up in her eyes. "She told me she couldn't believe I was choosing your family over her—my own 'mother'—that she rearranged her schedule so she could spend time with me. I asked her if she was sure that was why, and when she asked what I meant, I said that the last time I went there she ignored me for James."

A tear rolls down her cheek, and I wipe it away before hugging her to me. "I'm sorry, Char. I really don't know what to say." This is one of those moments where I'm torn between being her pseudo-stepparent and being her friend. I wish Edward was here with me because he'd know what to say, yet I'm glad he's not because I have a feeling he'd go ballistic.

She sniffs. "It's not your fault, Bella. I don't get why, all of a sudden, she cares, you know? She never cared how much time I spent with her before—so why now?" Her blue eyes shine bright, as fresh tears coat her cheeks, making me hate this Maggie woman even more than ever before for doing this to Charlotte.

I have a feeling it has everything to do with me, but I won't tell her that. "I don't know, Char. You need to talk to Edward about this one, sweetie. I wish I could tell you what to do, but I can't." My heart breaks for her as she looks away and wipes her face.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You're right. Dad will know what to do. Can you be there, though? Because I have a feeling he's not going to like this very much, and I don't want him to get all mad again."

With a soothing hug, I agree to hold her hand while she discusses this with Edward.

Later that night—after Edward has talked to Charlotte and I've held her as she cried—he leads me back to his apartment and picks up his phone to call Maggie. I offer to leave and he tells me no, that I have as much right to be here for this conversation as he does. Just as I'd suspected, he's livid, but he reassures me that my presence is what's keeping him from driving to Kingston and hashing this out face-to-face with this manipulative woman.

Edward doesn't even really give her a chance to speak when she answers the phone, before he lays into her about her recent attitude and how it's affecting Char.

"I don't care what you think of me having a girlfriend who spends time with her, Maggie; you're confusing her. She's spent most of her life knowing you wanted nothing to do with her as her 'mother', and she still knows that; so why the hell say and do stuff like this." He pinches his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "When she did come spend time with you, you blew her off for _your _boyfriend."

I don't know what she's saying on the other end of the phone, but whatever it is makes Edward's face turn red before he fumes out, "NO! I won't force her to go. I won't even force her to come in the summer, if she decides not to. In fact, if you feel like pushing this, I'll take you to court."

He barks out a laugh at whatever she says after that. "Oh, you think so, do you? Honey, no Judge in this Country is going to give you custody of a kid you gave up in the first place; a kid you wanted nothing to do with for almost thirteen years." He pauses, listening. "Yeah, then try me."

He hangs up and tosses his phone on the coffee table, then lays down with his head in my lap. I snort a laugh and say, "That went well."

He groans. "If she pushes anymore, Bella, I'm going to get a lawyer involved. And if that happens, Maggie's going to wish she never threatened me or Charlotte like she just did."

…

Christmas Eve is spent with Edward's parents and Charlotte. We eat the Tourtiere that Edward's mom was thrilled to allow me to make. It's a Christmas Eve tradition with my family and makes me feel closer to them, even though I won't be seeing them for a few more days. Edward, Charlotte, and I are heading there after the Boxing Day rush is over.

We've all decided we're also going to follow my parents' long-standing tradition of opening one gift each on Christmas Eve.

Edward groans and Charlotte squeals when she realises what my gift to her is: tickets to the upcoming R5 concert.

"What is it, Edward?" I ask in a teasing voice. "You want to come, too? I have an extra ticket, you know."

Esme and Carlisle are cracking up, and Edward's shaking his head. I explain to Charlotte that I bought the extra ticket in case she'd like to bring a friend, but if she wants it to be just the two of us then I'll sell the other. I've also booked a hotel for the weekend, since they weren't playing Toronto and we're going to have to go all the way to London, as the Hamilton show is on a Monday night.

Edward loves the gift Charlotte picked out for him: a book of sheet music for his compositions. She tells me that one of her favourite things growing up was listening to Edward play. I can't say I disagree, remembering the time he sang to me in the music store, and all the times after that, as well.

We all give Carlisle and Esme a weekend away in Niagara Falls. They haven't been there since their honeymoon, before Edward was born, and they seem super excited about the trip. Tomorrow's gift will be the new luggage sets we found on sale at Giant Tiger. It's not much, but, considering the trip and the fact that Charlotte picked it out, it's actually a pretty cool gift.

Edward gives Charlotte a very nice pair of earrings with her birthstone in them. She gets a little teary-eyed and tells him they are the best present ever.

I figure that's the end of the gifts, as Edward and I had agreed to only get one present for each other, and start to clean up the mess of wrapping paper when he stops me. "So, I know we said we'd only get each other one thing, and that we'd exchange tomorrow, but I, um … I got you something small, too. I want to give it to you tonight."

I roll my eyes at him and have to pinch my mouth shut before blurting out something inappropriate about size, and decide to indulge him anyway. He gets up and leaves the room. As he goes Charlotte giggles, reminding me that the dirty innuendo need to stay in my head and never go past my lips.

I glance over at her and she's trying to stifle her laughs; I narrow my eyes at her when she looks in my direction. "You're up to something, missy," I say to her, pointing and breaking out in a fit of giggles.

That only proves to make her laugh harder. Edward comes back into the room with a box in his hands, holes poked into the top. "Okay, so I couldn't wrap it, but after your visit to the Aquarium, Char told me she thought you'd really like this, and I saw some on my way home from work today and couldn't resist."

He hands me the box, kissing me and whispering a sweet, "Merry Christmas, Bella."

I open the box and peer inside. I gasp and shove the box at Edward, hopping around from foot to foot, waving my hands up and down, chanting a disgusted, "Ew, ew, ew … get it away, get it away."

Edward looks at Charlotte, who is laughing so hard her face is red and tears are streaming down her cheeks. Why that little shit.

He then looks at me confused, and I can't help but laugh. "Payback, my dear Char, is a you-know-what …" I tell her, then explain to Edward that while I think his present is … cute, I hate those types of fish, and his darling, demon daughter knew that.

We all can't help but laugh at her deviousness, before Char offers to keep the fish in her room.

"Make sure you wash your hands after touching the little thing's tank, Char," I instruct pointedly, shuddering at the mere look of it.

By the looks on Carlisle's and Esme's faces, I can tell they were both in on it. This cements my love for them trifold.

…

We leave the main house shortly after midnight and make the trek to Edward's apartment.

Once we get inside he grabs my hand and pulls me to the couch. He seems a little nervous and that, in turn, makes me nervous, too. Once we've been sitting silently for a few minutes, Edward releases a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. "I think I'm ready, Bella," he says quietly, thumb rubbing across my knuckles lightly.

It's both the best and the most nerve-racking thing he could've said to me right now. I know what he's saying. He's finally ready for us to take that last step. I've been patient for months, not pushing and thoroughly enjoying what we're doing together. Edward's skills at third base are more than enough to keep me satisfied, and I'm in no rush to go all the way, even if it means waiting for marriage.

My heart's racing, practically pounding out of my chest as I process what this actually means.

I want this, want _him_, so badly. Probably more than I ever thought I did.

This is it.

Edward stands from the couch, tugging my hand slightly to make me rise, and leads me to his bedroom.

It's evident that Edward has gone through a lot of trouble for tonight. Candles sit on either night stand waiting to be lit and he's even bought new bedding. Not that either of those things matter. I just want him, and now I'm finally getting the chance.

He steps close to me, and I look up into his green, vibrant eyes and blink once, smiling and saying, "Hi."

He smirks back down at me and says, "Hi," back before kissing me. The kiss says everything. _I love you. I want you. You're mine. I'm yours._

His hands slide up my sides, under my armpits, raising my arms above my head; then drop back down to the hem of my shirt, lifting it up over my torso and head. He throws it behind him somewhere, leaning in to kiss me again.

I lift my hands to the top button of his shirt, starting from the top and working my way down. I take my hands and separate the sides of his shirt. Breaking our kiss, I drop my head to his chest and kiss the ink right above his heart.

He lets out a breath, clutching my hair lightly. His hands then travel down from my hair, smoothing down over my breasts, settling on the button of my jeans, popping it open. I repeat the action with his.

We copy each other's moves; removing all the last articles of clothing, then he leads me to the bed, sitting me down on it. He turns from me and lights the candles, walking around to the other side to light those, as well.

The room's bathed in a soft glow, and I take back what I was thinking earlier. Though it isn't needed, the added touch of the candles is nice.

Edward kneels on the bed, using his hands to touch me, his mouth to pleasure me. All the stuff we've done before can't even come close to this moment in terms of greatness. Everything seems like more. Every touch, every kiss, every lick, every suck. I can barely catch my breath.

Once he's travelled every inch of my body with his hand and his mouth, I return the favour. Until he's panting and begging me please, please, please.

With his instruction, I then reach into the side table and retrieve a condom, rolling it on him. Just as I'm about to straddle him he grips my hips and flips me underneath him.

"I love you so much, Bella," he says softly, before he leans down and captures my lips in a searing kiss.

He then pulls back and smoothes a piece of hair away from my face as he pushes himself inside me for the first time.

"I love you too, Edward," I groan. The feel of him inside my body is like nothing I can describe. He's moving slowly, and I can feel every inch of him as he fills me, hitting places that I swear have never been hit before.

He's mumbling into my neck, "God, Bella … I never … I never knew it could be like this."

Tears well in my eyes because I never knew it could be like this, either. This level of love, this level of pleasure and intimacy. I can feel it building inside me, and my chest feels like it's going to explode from all the emotions of it.

With his thumb, he wipes a tear from beneath my eye, and I notice a slightly glassy sheen to his also. His thrusts speed up, and I match mine to his. It isn't long before both of us are shaking with our release.

He kisses me softly, his lips lingering, before pulling back and wiping more tears from my face. "I love you, Bella. That was well worth the wait."

"Yeah." I smile up at him. "But we're doing that again ... and very soon."

...

It's still dark when I feel Edward get up off the bed. I can vaguely hear the sounds of him using the washroom and drift back off to sleep. A few minutes later I feel the bed dip beside me and Edward rub his hands softly on my naked back.

"Bella? Babe, can you get up? I want to give you your present now."

I jut out my lower lip in a pout, and he chuckles. "Can't I have it later? Wasn't that what you've given me a couple of times over now?" I ask him, giggling groggily.

He taps my nose and answers, "No," before urging me to get up and dressed. I'm confused but do what he asks. I'm even more confused when he leads me out of the apartment and down the stairs, then furrow my brow when he bypasses the main house and guides me down the sidewalk.

"Edward, where are we going?" I groan, rubbing my upper arms. It's freaking cold and dark and I'm missing my warm bed.

He tugs on my hand, pulling me along. "Come on, sleepyhead. We don't want to be late."

We walk to the subway station and stand for a few minutes. The train shows up and when the door opens he leads me onto the mostly empty train, dragging me over to my normal Monday to Friday seat. He lets out a gust of air before dropping down to one knee in front of me.

Tears form in my eyes as he begins to speak. "Bella, at exactly this time, seven forty-three, approximately one year ago I boarded a train, and I heard the most wonderful laugh. I looked around, and there you were. You were beautiful and I wanted to get to know you. It took me months to get my head out of my ass long enough to do it. The best thing I ever did was steal your phone that one day. It opened the door for me to really get to know you. What I've learned about you I love. You're amazing. You're amazing with me, you're amazing with my daughter, and I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life loving and being loved by you."

He says all of this in one long breath while I sit there, tears streaming down my face, my smile a mile wide.

I gasp as he opens his hand to reveal a beautiful ring nestled in the palm. "Will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

I'm nodding through my tears, saying, "Yes, yes, yes," and the few people on the train are clapping.

Then, I'm hauled up off the seat into Edward's arms, and he's kissing me and thanking me, and I don't think I've ever been this happy.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he says, catching my lips in another kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Edward."

...


	20. Chapter 20

**Huge kisses and thank yous go out to everyone that supported us in this. Mid, you are one in a million, thank you times infinity! Kni, your advice was a blessing.**

…

**Chapter 20 Epilogue**

"How are you holding up?" Edward asks, wrapping his arms around me.

I lean back into his chest and revel in the warmth of his body. "I'm fine. Are you okay?"

He kisses the top of my head and I feel him shrug. "Yeah, I mean, it was bound to happen someday, right?"

The principal finally calls Charlotte's name to the podium and our entire section breaks out in cheers and wolf whistles. She picks up her diploma and smiles big as I take as many pictures as I can before she takes her seat.

"How does it feel to be the proud father of a high school graduate, Edward?" Esme asks Edward, handing me a cranky Garrett.

Taking my seat between her and Edward, I settle my son on my shoulder and kiss his little cheek while Edward answers, "I'm not ready for this, Ma. Where did the time go?" He looks longingly at Garrett and touches his curly blonde hair. "I'll blink and before I know it it'll be this little guy up there."

I smile and look up at him. "Another seventeen years to go there, Daddy," I tease. Our son is barely six months, and as quickly as time flies while we juggle life with a teenager on the brink of adulthood and a newborn baby, I wouldn't change any of it.

He kisses my temple. "It'll go by quick. You'll see."

I have to agree with him, somewhat. The past five years together have certainly flown by. I wouldn't have thought that taking the dingy subway every morning would lead me to love, but I thank the Gods of the Toronto Transit Authority every day. Or every other day. When the train is actually on time.

I digress.

Today is about Charlotte. The road we've been on has been a little bumpy, but well-worth every little pebble and pothole. Once she got it into her head that I was never going away, no matter what, it didn't matter what Maggie said or did, our relationship never wavered.

I'd like to say Maggie became a better mother to Charlotte over the years, but I'd be lying. Maggie's not here today. She hasn't actually been around for about four years now. During the two weeks after Edward's call to her, just before our first Christmas together, she blew up his phone day and night with her threats to take him to court for custody. When she and her boyfriend, James, broke up; him dumping her, citing what a horrible woman she was to make those kinds of threats, she "went into a depression" and stopped calling altogether for three months. She called Charlotte, finally, to announce she'd met a man named Liam and she was in love. She was calling to let Charlotte know she wouldn't be able to come visit her that summer as they were planning a trip to Ireland, where Liam was from, to visit his family. When Maggie got pregnant and started a family with Liam—who became her new husband during that trip—she sort of left her past life behind. Unfortunately, that past life included Charlotte.

We made sure Charlotte was never left behind, though. Not on my watch. That little girl got my heart just like her father did, and not once have I regretted that decision. When I got pregnant with Garrett, she was involved in every step of the way, and even assisted in the delivery room.

Not once has Charlotte been made to feel like she was unwanted. My parents raised me better than that, and every child who comes into my house is treated like one of our own. I didn't think I'd ever be the kind of mother to bake cookies and make snacks, but Charlotte and her friends grew on me.

Today, I'm so proud of how far she's come. I'm proud to have had a part in doing that—moulding her into the wonderful, intelligent, young woman she has turned into.

When I think of my life before I met Edward, it feels so empty. I mean, I lived. I did. I was fulfilled, but now I have so much more. Edward has brought me this family. He is my family. He's my lover and my best friend.

I've never felt for anyone what I feel for him, and that alone scares me. It scares me to think I could have bypassed any of this if I'd missed the subway. Or what if Edward had decided never to talk to me because of his own fears and insecurities? I can't imagine a life without him in it.

"Are you sure you're okay, sweetheart?" Edward asks from beside me as we make our way to the car.

"Yeah. I'm perfect. Today was perfect," I tell him, because it was. It was almost as good as our wedding day, and Lord knows the bar was set high on that day. Blending our families hadn't been much of challenge, and much fun was had once his grandmother and my mom started making fun of Jasper in French. To this day, he still thinks my mom called him a sexy beast, while in reality, she asked me what Alice was doing with that animal.

"I can't believe my little girl is off to college," Edward muses while settling Garrett into his car seat.

"Yeah. Talk about a generation gap," I tell him pointedly while getting settled into my own seat.

I watch Edward jog around the front of the car. Gone are the blessed sexpenders and fauxhawk, he figures now that he actually owns the music store he should tone it down a bit, but his sense of individuality still lingers in his untameable hair and ever growing collection of ink.

He gets in and puts on his seatbelt. "Let's pretend she's actually my sister," he suggests, just as Charlotte gets settled into the back seat behind him.

"Very funny, Dad," she says, flicking his earlobe.

He gives me a pointed look, and I high-five her from the passenger seat.

Edward then leans in, a hand on my thigh. "Let's go home and make another baby." He smirks, pursing his lips, his blue eyes alight.

After all this time, he still makes my heart flutter with a single flash of that dimple.

I laugh. "Okay, Romeo, how about you concentrate on driving us there." I may have met him on the subway, but on days like today, there's no part of me that wishes to make that trek.

"That is so gross, Dad," Charlotte says, fake-gagging, making Edward's grin widen. The way they tease each other is pretty much the same way Angela and I do. Like siblings. Their relationship has always been a different one, sometimes a difficult one, and as an outsider coming in, it's one that many would think needed an adjustment, but I wouldn't change them for the world.

As we drive home to our house, which is incidentally only a block from Esme and Carlisle's home, I'm thankful of where those dreaded subway tunnels have led me.

THE END … Maybe

…

**No, it's not quite the end...**


End file.
